Cerebral
by LyricalKris
Summary: Edward Cullen was just the competition—the only other neurosurgeon possibly as good as she was in three states—until the day Bella's husband landed on his table. She'd never liked Edward, but after he killed her husband, she hated him. Too bad he got in her head the same way he got under her skin.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here we go again. So. Eleanor doesn't get a lot of fics written for her because she asks for weird ass fics. When she dangled this plot line in front of me...well, it's so deliciously angsty. This is her fault.**

* * *

Edward Cullen was a joke in the Swan-Black household. Cocky little shit. He'd irked Bella since they were in medical school together. When they'd graduated, and Edward was accepted at a different hospital, Bella had hoped she'd never see him again.

No such luck. He'd chosen her same field, and even more annoyingly, his career had followed about the same trajectory as Bella's. As a result, he and Bella were often spoken about hand-in-hand in the medical community as two of the brightest up-and-coming neurosurgeons in the tristate area. Then, of course, they were often at the same lectures, conferences, and supplementary classes. His name came up a lot during consults as their patients tended to go between one hospital and the other for second opinions.

No matter how irritating her colleague had been, Jake always made her laugh about it rather than dwell. He did an especially great impression of the man's arrogant walk. That was what Bella loved most about her husband. He was her best friend. Even on her worst days, he never failed to cheer her up.

It was some kind of irony that Jacob ended up with a brain disease. Ironic because Bella could help everyone else in the world, but not him.

"Moyamoya disease isn't fatal," Bella told him. He was making a good show of it, but she could tell he was freaked out.

Still, Jake being Jake, he tried to joke. "What was the name of that procedure?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Bella's lip twitched. "Encephaloduroarteriosynangiosis." It was one of the surgical options that alleviated the condition.

"Oooh." He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him. "And the other?"

She pushed up on the balls of her feet, tempting him to kiss her. "Encephalomyosynangiosis."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me, babe," he said, his voice a low rumble near her ear just before he claimed her lips. "And Dr. Cullen is assisting, huh? Are you sure I shouldn't be worried?"

Bella grimaced at that. Theoretically, Jake's surgery would be performed by Dr. Snow, but she'd asked and sure enough, Dr. Cullen would be assisting. More than likely at this stage, it would actually be Dr. Cullen performing the majority of the surgery. She gave him grudging credit. Rather than be an insufferable ass about it, he'd been pretty good at patiently fielding each and every one of the questions Bella had thrown at him to test his knowledge. She'd often heard he had good bedside manner, and it was out in full force. He treated her like he would have any other patient's wife except for the fact he was free to throw technical jargon around when he did so.

"Dr. Cullen is a lot of things, but he's good at what he does. Dr. Snow is well known too." Bella swallowed hard. "You'll be in good hands."

"I'd rather be in your hands. I know how good your hands can be." He waggled his eyebrows.

"I'd rather you be in my hands too," Bella grumbled, more serious than she knew he wanted her to be. "Fricken ethics, right?"

"Fucking a," Jake agreed.

It was only a week later that Bella found herself facing off against Dr. Snow and Dr. Cullen again, this time with Jake in the hospital bed between them. Her husband looked bemused, and Bella quizzed Edward for the thousandth time.

Dr. Snow looked ever so slightly annoyed. "Dr. Swan, of course, you have the option of having Dr. Cullen taken off your husband's case, but we're down to the wire now."

"Dr. Swan." Dr. Cullen reached out and took her hands. When he did, Bella felt a jolt go down her spine that shut her up. The man squeezed her hands and smiled reassuringly before he let go. "We're going to take good care of him. I promise, I know what I'm doing."

Bella ran her fingers through Jacob's hair on the side of his head that wasn't shaved. "Good stitchwork, right?"

"What am I, a quilt?" Jacob pretended to grouse.

Edward just smiled. "You'll hardly even notice the scar."

"They've got this, babe," Jake said. "Dr. Cullen comes from a long line of competent surgeons. He told us so himself only every gala we went to, remember?"

Edward only smirked. "It's true."

Jake looked to Edward. "So is this more like Hannibal or Frankenstein?"

"I'm not going to eat your brain even with a nice chianti," Edward quipped back. "Dr. Frankenstein it is, then. Are you ready?"

Jake turned back to Bella. "Just take a nap. It'll be over before you know it."

It didn't take long for Bella to decide being on the other end of this dance just plain sucked. She hated waiting maybe even more than a normal patient's wife would. She went over the surgery in her head, trying to gauge what stage they'd be at. It was a doctor's curse to know too much about what could go wrong, even though she of all people knew that the prognosis for this scary but not often fatal disease was optimistic.

Some hours later, Bella finally spotted Dr. Snow and Dr. Cullen headed down the hallway in her direction. She stood, trying to ignore the twisting in her gut and the bad feeling that crept along her skin. There was something she didn't like about the way they walked—specifically the way Dr. Cullen trailed behind Dr. Snow instead of at his side.

The closer they got, Bella realized she knew the expressions they both wore. All the breath left her body as she realized without either of them having to say what had happened. It was written in the grim determination on Dr. Snow's face and the defeat of Dr. Cullen's slumped shoulders. She'd worn that look before.

It was the look of two doctors who'd lost a patient.

Bella clasped her hands over her mouth, muffling an anguished cry. Her legs gave out from underneath her, and she sank to her knees, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she reeled.

Dr. Cullen was at her side in an instant. He crouched beside her, a gentle hand on her shoulder that felt like it would burn her skin. Her body had seized, though, and she couldn't throw him off. She could barely think at all as Dr. Snow crouched and began to speak to her in that soft, rational and yet apologetic tone she despised.

Complications, he said. Unexpected complications that didn't really have anything to do with Jake's condition. These things happened, and there was nothing anyone could do. Theoretically, she should have understood. She'd given that speech before.

But Bella couldn't silence the voice in her head, loud and getting louder, that screamed there had to be some mistake. Dr. Snow was lying, it said. Someone was to blame. Someone did the wrong thing.

She raised her head, looking the doctor in the eyes. "Who was working on him when it happened?" she demanded.

If she'd blinked, she would have missed the way Dr. Snow's eyes skirted to Dr. Cullen for a fraction of a second before he looked at her. "Dr. Swan, you know—"

Bella whirled on Dr. Cullen. She grabbed him by the front of his scrubs and shook him hard enough he was knocked off balance onto his ass. "What did you do? It's not a hard procedure. What the hell did you do? What the hell did you do?"

Dr. Cullen stared back at her with wide, guilty eyes. For once, he didn't look like the arrogant ass he was. He looked like a little boy who'd been caught doing something bad.

"It wasn't a life-threatening procedure," Bella bellowed. "You incompetent bastard. You killed him."

Nothing else made sense. This wasn't supposed to be a big deal. It was a scary disease, rare, but not fatal when treated. The surgery sounded scarier than it was. She'd even told Jake's father and sisters they didn't need to come. Let them come over in a couple of days when Jake could go home.

He was supposed to be home in just two days. The biggest drawback of the surgery was the fact he'd had to cut his beautiful long hair. That was all. It was nothing.

"You killed him. You son of a bitch. You killed him."

Dr. Cullen reached out as though he was going to put a hand on Bella's shoulder again, but Bella recoiled. "No. You don't touch me," she snarled.

"Dr. Swan, I assure you, Dr. Cullen did everything he could. He made the same calls I would have made myself. Your husband was in good hands. It just wasn't enough. Not today."

A cold feeling had settled deep in her gut. It spread quickly through her veins and choked her throat. Bella wrapped her arms around herself and hunched over, breathing too fast.

This wasn't happening. There was no way she was here in this hospital alone with the man who'd killed her husband and the doctor who was protecting him. In every horror of her life, she'd never felt this desolate and alone.

Alone without her best friend; the person who knew her best in the world. The man who made her laugh every day, who was like sunshine—all warmth and brightness.

Edward Cullen had killed all the light in her world. He'd killed her husband.

"You killed him," she whispered.

Then, she broke.

* * *

 **A/N: Soooo. Many thanks to Betsy, Eleanor, MoH, Packy, Mina (that banner, tho….whoa. Whoa), and Ausha.**

 **How are you, kiddos? Buckle up. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Dearest anon. The only reason I knew moyamoya disease existed is because I knew someone who has it. She was diagnosed as an adult. Adults can have it too. :) Thanks for keeping me honest.**

* * *

 _ **~Five Years Later~**_

Edward took a deep breath as he pulled into the driveway of his parents' lovely home. He drummed the steering wheel, steeling himself.

It wasn't that seeing his parents was some kind of ordeal. On the contrary, Edward actually liked spending time with the folks. They had their problems, of course. His mother could be a bit overbearing, and it was intimidating as hell to live in his father's shadow, but for the most part, Edward adored his parents. In fact, he had dinner with them at least once a week.

Which was the problem. Despite the fact he'd consistently had dinner with them; despite the fact his mother, who'd memorized his entire calendar of after-school activities down to the last hour throughout his childhood, knew damn well what days he was free, she'd called him four times this week to double-check. It could only mean one thing: she wanted something. What that meant for Edward he could only guess.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

"Edward." His mother answered the door almost before he could knock. She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but he held her at arm's length.

"We're having guests for dinner," he said, not asking. Esme was 'dressed'. Nice skirt. Dress shirt. Jacket. Pearls. His mother was always—always—well put together, but this was beyond. Edward didn't warrant this on his own. Esme could pull off a dress or nice slacks any day of the week, but she liked her designer jeans too.

Esme frowned at him, folding her arms across her chest. "Hello to you too. It's lovely to see you. I'm fine today. Thank you for asking."

Edward pursed his lips and bent to kiss his mother's cheek. "Hi, Mom. How are you?"

Esme's smile returned and she nodded approvingly. "Now there's the boy I raised with his good manners."

"How's Dad? Will Alice be joining us today?" Edward continued, playing along. His sister lived nearby. She, her husband, and her daughter often came to dinner.

"I'm right here. Hello, son." His father had appeared from the side hallway and now strode forward to give Edward a hug. "Alice and Jasper have Peter this weekend."

"Ah." Edward nodded. Peter was Jasper's son from his first marriage. He was an enjoyable boy, but his mother, Maria, had some kind of problem with Alice's family. Edward privately guessed it had something to do with the fact she thought they were all huge snobs. Jasper and Maria had never had much money. Either way, Alice and Jasper didn't come over as often when they had Peter so as to keep the family drama to a minimum. They also had a mutual child, baby Cynthia.

Edward looked between his parents. "Now will you tell me who's coming for dinner?"

His father chuckled and his mother made a face. Carlisle clapped Edward on the shoulder. "Come on. I'll make you a drink."

"If you think that'll help."

"Don't be dramatic, Edward. Yes, someone will be joining us for dinner, but we wanted to run something by you first." Esme sat on the opposite end of the sofa, facing him.

Edward accepted a whiskey on the rocks from his father with a nod of thanks. "Go ahead."

"You know my work for Nothing's Impossible," she said.

"Of course." Nothing's Impossible was a charity Esme had started when Edward was in middle school. Despite being obscenely rich, the Cullens were socially conscious. They'd sent their children to public school, believing that ignoring a problem just because they could wasn't going to solve anything.

Somewhere along the line, Esme had come to understand how important representation was to children. If a child from a disenfranchised group saw that someone who looked like them or came from their background could do anything, be anything, they were more likely to think they could too. Esme's organization took people from a variety of interesting jobs and toured schools with high instances of under-privileged, high-risk students.

"We're getting ready for the next tour, but I can't go this season." Esme typically acted as on-site coordinator, keeping her people in line and putting out whatever fires came up while they were traveling.

Edward looked to his father. "Your knee surgery. Right." The surgery wasn't dangerous, but the recovery was long and extraordinarily painful. Of course, his mother would want to be by his father's side.

Esme patted Edward's leg. "I want you to go in my place."

Edward blinked. "What?"

"You've made remarkable strides in your career," Carlisle said. "No one doubts that in another ten year's time, you'll be the best of the best in the world, Edward. But part of that, part of advancing, includes your charitable work. It's time to start giving back."

"But your tour is usually three to four months," Edward said with an incredulous laugh. "I can't leave work for that long."

"You can. The hospital wants its best and brightest to stand out as pillars of the community."

Carlisle, being the director at his hospital, was in a position to know, so Edward couldn't argue. He had a point, too. Edward rubbed the back of his neck, considering. Really, it wasn't that he was opposed to playing advanced babysitter. It just wasn't his craft. He was a surgeon, not a businessman.

But, all things considered, he'd always wanted to be like his parents—charitable. Not because he thought it would further his career—although, Carlisle was right, it would help—but because it was the right thing to do. He'd always admired his mother for working so diligently for a worthy cause.

"Okay, let's say I can get the time off to do this crazy thing. Who's coming to dinner?"

Esme brightened. "One of the people I wanted to ask to participate. I don't know why I never thought to ask someone in your field, Edward. Your father says you probably know her."

A ball tightened like a fist in the pit of Edward's belly. "Her?"

"Of course her. You know there aren't enough women in the medical and science fields to begin with. I was reading up on it, and apparently, only one in twenty neurosurgeons is a woman."

Edward knew that, of course. That was exactly why his stomach was twisting. He knew all the female neurosurgeons in the tri-state area. Exactly one of them lived within driving distance of her parents' house. "Who is it?" he asked, though he was painfully certain he knew exactly who his mother was talking about.

It was his father who answered. "I recommended her myself. I've only met her the once, but her name has come up before. The director at her hospital seems to think she'll be one of the best in your field." Carlisle grinned at Edward. "After you, of course. Dr. Isabella Swan-Black."

Edward let out a breath in a whoosh. He set his drink down with a clank, glad he'd only taken a sip. "I have to go." He stood.

"Edward," his mother protested. She and his father both stood, looking confused.

"I can't be here when she gets here, Mom. Trust me." He shook his head. "And I definitely can't be the coordinator if she's going to be involved." He made for the entryway.

His father stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. He was giving him that stern, disappointed look that Edward hadn't seen since he was a teenager. "Hold on a second. I know she's your rival, theoretically, but are you really taking it this far? Are you saying you won't even be in the same room as your colleague?"

Edward gave a wry laugh. "Trust me, Dad, she doesn't want to be in the same room as I am."

"I'm sure she's capable of being professional."

"I'm sure she is, but that's beside the point. I have to get out of here."

"Edward, explain this," his mother demanded, stepping to his side and making it difficult for him to get to the door.

He huffed. "I'll explain in detail later. This isn't about personal rivalry, I promise." He got a hold of the door handle and twisted it open. "She thinks I killed her husband."

He turned around, ready to step out the door, only to find himself a foot away from Dr. Isabella Swan-Black herself.

The sight of her stunned him for more than the obvious reason. It had never, even when they were in med school—especially when they were in med school—escaped his notice that Bella was beautiful. But he had never seen her look like she did today.

It was the dress. He didn't think he'd ever seen her in a dress. He'd seen her at work—in scrubs with her pony tail up. He'd seen her at conferences—casually professional in slacks. He'd seen her once at a gala in a well tailored pant-suit. He understood why. She was a woman making her way through the boy's club. She didn't want them to see her as feminine.

However, if she'd been invited to dinner with Dr. Carlisle Cullen—a well respected name in the medical community—she would want to dress to impress. She was a femme fatale straight out of a film noir novel—a black dress hugging her curves just so. The cut of her dress was just modest enough to pass any fingertip test, and yet it showed off her legs. Her hair was down, wavy around her face and falling straight to the center of her back. Her lips were painted ruby red, and yet it didn't make her look garish. No, it made her look this side of dangerous—cool and in control. All female to be sure, but not a damsel in distress.

Her ruby lips thinned out into a grim line, her brown eyes flashing with ice-cold hate.

Edward cleared his throat. "Don't worry. I'm leaving."

He made a move to step past her, but she stood her ground. "If I'm making you uncomfortable, I'll leave. This is your parents' house, after all." Her voice was cool as a cucumber.

Edward turned to look at her, taking a step back so they weren't so close. There was something in the air between them—all volatile fire and static. "Making _me_ uncomfortable? I'm not uncomfortable."

That was a blatant lie. Of course he was uncomfortable. Bella had made it very clear a long time ago exactly what she thought of him. Every time he had to see her—a few times a year given their profession—he was caught in this space of extreme guilt and complete irritation and indignation.

Bella, the grieving widow, could hate him all she wanted. He understood what the sudden death of a loved one did to a person. It wasn't the first time the family had taken a death poorly and blamed him. It hadn't been the last. People weren't supposed to be rational about death. Anyone who didn't understand that had no business being in medicine.

But dammit, Isabella Swan-Black, the doctor, should have known better. Not only did she have access to the results of the obligatory morbidity panel that had been conducted after Jacob Black's unfortunate and unexpected death, but she had no problem understanding the medical jargon. It had been a fluke. An unforeseeable twist.

Every type of surgery, no matter how routine, quick, or benign, had a death rate. There was no such thing as a guarantee. There were deaths on every doctor's record—hers included—so yeah, he resented the way she still looked at him like he was the scum of the earth. A murderer who would never be brought to justice.

Carlisle cleared his throat, interrupting the subtle glaring contest going on between Edward and Dr. Swan. Edward took a sharp breath. He'd almost forgotten his parents were there. Carlisle smiled at Bella, easing his way between them. "I'm sorry, Dr. Swan-Black. I knew you had to know my son, but I wasn't aware you had history. I didn't think to mention he'd be here today."

Bella breathed in through her nose, but the smile she aimed at Carlisle was easy. "Call me Bella, please. It's not a problem, Dr. Cullen. I knew there had to be some chance I'd run into your son here. If I wasn't fine with it, I would have said so." She turned to address Edward, the look in her eyes cooling noticeably—at least to him. "You don't have to leave on my account, Dr. Cullen."

He stared at her for a beat.

No, of course she wouldn't back down. He knew damn well she despised him, but she was still ambitious. Passing up the opportunity to impress the respected and influential Dr. Carlisle Cullen just because Edward was his son would be to let Edward 'win'.

He also couldn't help but read in her expression her likely thought that if Edward was even a halfway decent person, he would leave. He would make up an excuse that put the blame all on himself rather than Bella for the uncomfortable situation and get the hell out.

In spite of his better judgement, his competitive streak rose in response to the unspoken challenge. Fuck all of that. He hadn't done anything wrong—not five years ago, and not now standing in his parents' house. She wasn't leaving because this was a great opportunity to put on her resume. It was the same for him. He stood up straighter. "Well, if it's no problem for you…" He gestured inside the house.

Esme and Carlisle exchanged a glance, but they too stepped inside, picking up their duties as hosts. They moved the little party to the living room for drinks and then on into the dining room for dinner.

To her credit, Bella didn't recoil at the idea of what Esme proposed, even when she tentatively put forward that Edward would be involved too. She listened attentively and asked questions, not about Edward's position but of the program itself. As for Edward, she didn't look at him, but she didn't ignore him either. She made a point of asking him for more salad when he served himself some. She asked him a few polite questions about how much work he'd done for his mother's charity in the past.

"She used to take me with her for at least a week when she first started these tours," Edward said.

"A few days off school for some real life experience isn't time wasted in my book," Esme said.

Bella smiled. "My mother was more fond of mental health days and adventures, but that's another story."

All in all, if Bella was uncomfortable at his presence, she didn't show it. His parents kept glancing between the two of them, and Edward tried his best to keep any outward signs of his own distress off his features.

Realistically, the idea of being with Bella for the better part of three or four months sounded like hell. He could practically feel the ice coming off the woman.

But then, maybe he was exaggerating. Though she never hid her disdain when they happened to catch each other's eyes, she hadn't ever acted on her hatred. She didn't bad-mouth him to their colleagues or patients.

She was, as his father had said, professional. He could be too. He wasn't twelve years old. It didn't matter if a pretty girl didn't like him.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself as dessert winded down, and Bella confirmed her interest. "I'm beyond honored that you thought of me. It's a worthwhile cause, and the others you spoke of sound like amazing people. It would be great to work with them."

Not, Edward noticed, with him.

"I'm sure my director is familiar with your program?" Bella asked.

Esme nodded. "Of course. His son does my taxes, in fact."

Bella smiled and nodded. "Then it should be easy. I'll talk to him on Monday, and we'll get everything settled. Assuming he has no problem letting me take a few months for such a worthwhile cause in the hospital's name, then I'm in."

"That's fantastic. I'm so glad to hear that."

Edward pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and said nothing.

A few minutes later, Bella was saying her goodbyes. At the last moment, Edward pushed by his father and stepped out the door behind her. "I'll walk you to your car," he said.

That finally got a reaction out of her, if only a small one. Her step faltered the slightest bit, and her eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. However, she kept walking and he walked beside her.

"You know"—Edward dropped his voice so his parents wouldn't hear— "my mother would offer you the position again next year, when it would, no doubt, be her running the show. If the timing doesn't work for you…"

"I appreciate your concern," she said in a clipped tone that indicated she absolutely did not. "The timing works out nicely for me." She unlocked the door to her car with the remote.

Edward got to it before she did and opened the door. He regretted it immediately. Of course, she wouldn't want him touching anything of hers. She paused a heartbeat, as though she expected the car to break down at his touch.

It didn't, of course, and Bella—ever calm and collected—simply got in the car.

Unsure what to make of this whole situation and this bizarre woman, Edward fell back on his manners. "It will be an honor to work with you. Sincerely," he said.

She stared at him a beat, an unreadable look on her face. "You know, I can't say the same. Have a good evening, Dr. Death."

And with that, she yanked her car door shut, turned on the engine, and backed out of the driveway, leaving him staring after her.

* * *

 **A/N: Sooo. More answers next chap when we get to talk to Bella. Thanks to my great team, Ausha, Eleanor, Mina, Packy, MoH, and Betsy, for keeping me on my toes.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A note, particularly for my doctor anon. If you know me at all, you know that I try to be as faithful to people's real lives as possible. I'm most concerned with this when it comes to social representations—people who practice BDSM, people who have mental illnesses, people with addiction, etc, etc, etc. I'll never use these kinds of things as simple entertainment without portraying them as accurately and empathetically as possible.**

 **However, it should come as no shock to you that I'm not actually a doctor. :) On top of that, I'm not at all versed on the culture of doctors, surgeons, etc. I'm taking a lot of creative license about surgeon-culture, and I'm very aware of that fact. However, I think this is the rather harmless form of creative license… Kind of like pretending that Mulder and Scully weren't the worst FBI agents in the history of the FBI (criminy!) or believing that any hospital would let Dr. House anywhere near a patient with a simple sprain, let alone their most complicated patients. Please, correct me if I'm insulting or harmful in any way. You know I'm open to that. But do take me with a grain of salt here, suspend** _ **some**_ **belief, and let's have fun!**

* * *

At home, the second she pulled into the driveway, Bella slumped over the steering wheel of her car, finally letting the trembling take over. She gritted her teeth as her whole body quaked, a noise halfway between a cry of anguish and one of fury ripping out of her with each heaving breath.

God damned arrogant asshole. She'd been so close. So close to keeping her cool. She'd been polite. She hadn't ignored him. She'd interacted with him even. She'd looked him in the eyes for the first time in five years—since she'd seen him walking down that hospital hallway with a guilty, hangdog expression.

"There was always going to be a first time," Bella muttered to herself. And of all the shit deals she'd gotten in her life, the fact she had to see Edward Cullen again was second only to Jake's actual death.

Many, many people had lost their loved ones under a knife, careless or otherwise. The vast majority of those wouldn't ever have to face the surgeon again. Their faces would remain a vague memory—just a blur in a white coat whose name they would forget.

Nothing would ever change the fact that her husband had died under Edward Cullen's scalpel, and she would never have the luxury to forget the man existed.

What was that line from _Fight Club_? Edward Cullen was her Marla Singer. He was the cut on the roof of her mouth that would heal if she could stop tonguing it. If only she'd been able to stop thinking about him for any significant amount of time, her feelings might have dulled, but it had never been that way.

Bella first became aware of Edward when they were in school. When they shared several classes in one semester. He had this way that got under her skin from the very first minute. In their hands-on classes, he was constantly second-guessing everyone. "Are you sure that's the wisest choice?" In other classes, when Bella gave an answer, she often found herself caught up in a debate with him across the lecture hall.

Needless to say, she'd been thoroughly annoyed with him by the time he got around to introducing himself. They were already midway through the semester when he came jogging up beside her in the quad.

 _He was all smiles and tousled hair. It looked better up close. Of course it did. The fact Edward was so damn beautiful was a point of contention as far as Bella was concerned. It figured. He was too aggravating not to be so fucking pretty._

" _Hey," he said, flashing a cheeky grin._

 _She was so shocked he was talking to her, smiling at her like they were friends, that she responded automatically. "Hi."_

" _My name is—"_

" _I know who you are," she snapped. What, did he think she was too stupid to recognize him? Everyone in their major knew who know-it-all Edward was._

 _His grin turned into a smirk—a cocky smile that was wider on one side. "It's a formal introduction, Bella. You're supposed to roll with it."_

 _Bella pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to keep from being rude. She wondered if he thought he would die if he wasn't telling someone how to do something._

" _So, listen," Edward said. "I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party with me on Saturday."_

" _What?" Bella stopped walking to stare at him. Her reaction was so sudden Edward took a few steps before he turned back. She could see in his eyes he was amused at having unnerved her. Extreme irritation mixed with annoyance. It didn't have a good effect on Bella's ability to speak. "I...we…" She struggled as about a million arguments and retorts shot through her head. "Are you crazy? We...We have a test on Monday." She winced. It was true, but it sounded so lame._

 _And, there was that grin again. "It's on a Saturday night. You have all night Friday, all day Saturday, and all day Sunday to prepare."_

" _Sunday is the most important day." She shook her head and continued walking. "I'm not going to spend Sunday all hungover and exhausted."_

 _He chuckled. "What kind of party girl are you? No one says you have to drink. As for the exhaustion, give me a break. You're in med school. We're going to be running on different levels of exhausted for the rest of our lives." He shrugged. "Besides, you can't study all the time. It's not healthy. You have to find a balance. We're not undergrads anymore, but the college experience, hanging out with your peers, is still an important part of life."_

 _Bella scoffed. "Wow. Edward Cullen's guide to life. What a shock. Look, not all of us can put in practically zero study time and get away with it." Bella couldn't count the number of times she'd been cramming, books spread all around her, when she saw Edward holding court a few tables over, free and happy as a clam._

 _Edward shrugged. "School has always come naturally to me. I know I'm lucky I don't have to study as much." He paused a moment before continuing. "Hey, maybe you can come over and I can help you study in the afternoon. Then, we can go to the party after we've earned it."_

 _Again, Bella stopped short to stare at him. "Really? You'd deign to help poor, lowly me out?" The condescending ass._

 _Edward's brow furrowed. "I didn't mean it like that. It's helpful to bounce things off someone else, that's all. Then, you can take a break and have some fun."_

" _With you."_

" _I am the one asking." His grin was back. "And you haven't said no."_

 _Arrogant bastard. She narrowed her eyes. "I'm married."_

 _Now, it was his turn to go wide-eyed. "You aren't."_

 _Bella tugged her necklace with her simple wedding band at the end out of her shirt. She didn't wear it during class because she often couldn't. She thrust it in his direction as proof._

" _Huh." Edward said, staring at the ring as though he wasn't quite sure it was real. He lifted his eyes to her. "You know what's funny?"_

" _What?" she asked, dropping the necklace so it fell against her again._

 _He studied her for a moment. "You didn't lead with that." He shouldered his back and smiled. "I'll see you around, Bella."_

Now, Bella took a deep breath and lifted her head from where it rested on the steering wheel.

It didn't help that Jake was the only one who'd known how much Edward got under her skin. After he'd died, her well-meaning coworkers brought her gossip to distract her. Unfortunately, Bella had bonded with these particular nurses when she'd been doing a rotation in the ER. At the time, Edward, a first year resident like she was, had gotten into a relationship with ER doc Tanya Ivanova at their hospital. Over the years, they'd been on again, off again.

When Jake died, they were on again. Edward in a relationship was just as dramatic and overzealous as he had been in school. He knew how to treat a patient. He knew how to treat a lady. The nurses were equal parts charmed by him and thought he was a blowhard. But either way, three weeks after Jake died on his table, Bella got to hear all about his romantic antics with a side order of how good he was at his job.

Now, their first face-to-face meeting was done and over with. Of course, it had to happen at the worst possible time under impossible circumstances. Impressing Carlisle Cullen wasn't an opportunity she could afford to pass up. Not right now. Adding this kind of work to her resume was something she needed to take the next step in her career.

But working with Edward? Theoretically working under him?

Of course, if she didn't, there was every chance she would end up working under him in reality. That was the problem, the reason she'd accepted Carlisle's invitation even when she knew there was a chance Edward would be around. Bella happened to know there would be a position open on the medical team she was most interested in joining.

It was the neurology department at Carlisle's hospital that would be losing one of its members in another year and a half. That team tended to get the most interesting cases. They were the ones at the forefront of the latest innovations in neurosurgery.

Bella had to assume that if she knew the doctor was looking to retire sooner than later, Edward had to know too. Carlisle being his father also gave him a leg up, so Bella needed all the help she could get if she was going to have a chance at the position.

So, she'd rolled the dice. Just her luck, not only was Edward home, but he'd be intimately involved in the whole process.

Of course she'd told Esme she could handle it. There was no rational reason she couldn't. It was three months of sporadic contact with someone she despised. Realistically, it wasn't a bad trade-off for being able to do something so worthwhile and add to her resume while she was at it.

Well, it might all be a moot point regardless. Doubtless, Edward had gone right inside, and who knew what he'd tell his parents. Maybe that she was a raving lunatic for her one lapse. The way he'd run after her—to let her off the hook, of course, because he was just so concerned for her—it was as though he was trying to push her buttons. Trying to get her to say some of the things that had been ricocheting around her head for years.

 _She thinks I killed her husband,_ he'd told his parents.

What a dramatic ass.

Bella got out of her car and headed into the condo that still felt too big to live in all alone. She took a beer from the fridge and sat, holding the cold bottle against her heated cheek. She'd just have to see how this all panned out.

 _ **~0~**_

Bella was expecting a phone call. What she got was Esme Cullen leaning against a fancy car in the parking space next to hers. Bella's step faltered, and Esme offered her a tight, polite smile. Bella took a steadying breath and kept walking.

"Hello," she said cautiously. She didn't try to look surprised. No use pretending she didn't know with seventy percent certainty what Esme wanted.

To her credit, Esme didn't mince words. After she greeted Bella, she got straight to the point. "I'd like to say first and foremost that I'm sorry for your loss." A deep sadness flitted across her expression as she glanced downward. "Grief is a horrible thing that doesn't lessen with time so much as it ebbs and flows. Even years later, the intensity of loss hits us, doesn't it?"

Her throat was tight as Esme raised her head, her brilliant green eyes filled with the same pain of loss Bella felt. She swallowed hard but could only nod that she understood.

Esme nodded back, and the look in her eyes hardened. "But that being said, I need to know now if you really think my son killed your husband."

Pain ricocheted off Bella's ribcage, and she flexed her hands in fists at her sides. She breathed in deeply through her nose. "I am aware my husband's death wasn't caused by negligence," she said, pleased when her voice was steady.

Esme studied her. "But you think he did something wrong." It wasn't a question.

Bella had to consider her answer. She could lie. She probably should have lied. Technically, Edward hadn't done anything wrong. The surgery had been going fine. The complication was unexpected, and once it happened, there was only a thousand to one chance Jake was going to survive.

"Here's what I know." Bella took another breath, making sure she could keep her voice steady as she looked Esme in the eyes. "Jake's surgery was as much of a milk run as surgery on the brain can get. It was simple. And sometimes, even the best surgeons get cocky when they're sure they can do a surgery with their eyes closed.

"What went wrong with Jake…" She flinched. She'd gone over the whole surgery in her head over and over again in the last five years, visualized every second of it. "When a complication like that happens, you have a window of a few seconds between a decent chance of survival and no chance. I know it's mostly luck when a doctor catches something like that in time. But I also know that the best doctors, the ones who are aware that no matter how good they are, they'll never be good enough, get lucky more often. Those are my honest thoughts."

She could see the war behind Esme's eyes, and she understood. Fair as it wasn't, Edward was her son, her child. Of course she wanted to argue.

Bella saved her the trouble. "If you're asking me to forgive and forget—no. Absolutely not. I can't do that." She tilted her chin up, working to soften her expression. "But, I think you'll agree I've been professional the vast majority of these last five years. I have to talk about your son frequently with patients and colleagues. I've never berated him, nor would I ever. I was at a conference once where Edward spoke, and I was fascinated by his presentation."

Fucking bastard. He was good at everything but keeping Jake alive, it seemed.

"Even if I didn't respect him as a colleague"—and, bitter as it tasted in her mouth, she had to admit he was a good surgeon— "I'd never do anything to embarrass you. Your program means more to me than I could express. Given where Jake came from, it would have meant the world to him too. I can understand if you think it's a conflict of interest, but if I didn't think I could handle it, I wouldn't have agreed in the first place."

For a long, tense handful of seconds, Esme said nothing. She looked in Bella's eyes, her own conflicted, as though she were trying to look into her soul. Finally, she nodded. To Bella's surprise, a smile played at her lips. "Edward said much the same thing. He said that he could deal with someone not liking him without his mother getting protective of him. You're both adults, and you know your limits better than I do."

Esme looked off, tapping her foot as she said, almost to herself, "After all, it's a good size group you'll be traveling with. Typically, we tend to hang out together, but not always. There's always someone who prefers to be on their own, and that's fine. Mostly he's there to work with the schools. Make sure everything goes smoothly."

Esme looked up at Bella, rubbing the back of her neck in an agitated fashion. "My husband is going to have a slow and painful recovery. The last thing I want is to have to worry about is my son and my program while I'm with Carlisle."

Before Bella could answer, she went on with a huff. "But you fill a niche I don't get very often. Female, lower income, in a scientifically rigorous profession. And I'm very well aware that surgery is not only a man's world, but it's cutthroat at that. Very competitive. But that's a very crass thing of me to say, Bella, I'm sorry."

Bella shook her head. "I prefer bluntness, honestly."

"Well, in the interest of blunt honesty, I suppose it's fair to say that I don't have to agree with your thoughts to understand them. I've been doing this for a lot of years, working with a very diverse group of people with a wide range of personalities. Not all of them were pleasant." Esme regarded her coolly, saying without saying that Bella was in the unpleasant category. "If you're sure, I'll take you at your word."

"I'm sure," Bella said.

When she was safely tucked in her car again and Esme had sped off, Bella let out a long breath. She clutched her steering wheel, trying to unclench her jaw.

That had been a gigantic lie. She wasn't at all sure she wanted to spend any good amount of time with Edward Cullen no matter how many other people would be there with them. She'd wished for a long time now that Edward would crash and burn so she'd never have to see his face or hear his name again.

She took another deep breath and tried to get into doctor mode—pure assessment, calculation, and instinct with no added emotion.

Best-case scenario—forcing herself to interact with Edward would take the sting out of his existence in her professional sphere. That one moment, when she'd snapped at him after a long, tense evening of pretended indifference, was as bad as it was going to get.

Worst-case scenario…

Well. She supposed she'd have to cross that bridge when she got to it.

* * *

 **A/N: You all are a passionate group of people with diverse and vehement reactions. This is gonna be a fun ride for me. Hearts!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for the wait, kiddos. Life is in a bit of an upheaval at the moment. Trying to keep my mojo going.**

* * *

 _ **~Then~**_

Edward had no idea why he couldn't get Bella out of his head.

Well, no. That was a damn lie. She was beautiful, which seemed to be enough reason for most guys to obsess over a woman, but it was more than that. She was smart, and, well, she intrigued him.

Besides, it wasn't like he was following her on purpose. They were classmates with a similar class schedule, and Bella wasn't shy about speaking in class. She was a hell of a lot more insightful than the majority of their classmates, and he liked to challenge her. He liked that she rose to the challenge every time

It took a few weeks after he learned she was married to figure out he didn't have to date her. Maybe they could be friends. He was intrigued; there was no getting around that, but that didn't mean he had to seduce her.

Those first few months, he found himself watching her. She didn't, as far as he could see, have friends. She walked everywhere like a woman on a mission. When he saw her around campus, she was typically surrounded by books and always alone. So, maybe friends was out.

He wondered why she had no friends. If she was so anti-social, how had she gotten a husband so young? Or was it because she'd been married so young that she didn't seem to have a social life? Maybe her husband was a controlling bastard.

Summer came and went. When classes resumed, Edward found himself thrown together with Bella again. More than sharing a class, they ended up sharing a body. Literally. The class would spend the semester exploring and dissecting a human cadaver. They were put in groups of two or three by the professor. When he called out their names, Edward glanced over and saw Bella's eyes were wide. She blinked a few times before she set her mouth in a line with a nod. That amused him too. He was a challenge to her.

After their initial greeting to each other, Edward didn't try to make small talk. It was fairly obvious when, as they stepped up to the table, Bella talked first and loudly, effectively setting the tone. The tone, apparently, was all business.

Edward was more than willing to play along. Besides, he was more than a little apprehensive about the dead body on the table in front of him. And, for once, he was watching Bella because he wasn't up to looking at the dead man just yet.

Well, what? It was jarring. Sure, he was studying to be a doctor. Sure, he was going to be _inside_ bodies as a surgeon. Sure, he was going to have to deal with dead people, probably frequently.

Hell, one day, people would die under his hands. That was a chilling thought; one of the few that kept him up some nights. He'd been raised knowing that he was going to be a doctor someday. Likely a surgeon, just like his father. Just like his grandfather. Though he'd met so many people his father had helped, had seen the awards and accolades Carlisle had achieved, he'd also been there through a few of the hardest days. When his father came home, defeated and destroyed over a particularly difficult loss.

It was easy to think of the good and glory of his intended profession. He'd help people. He'd save people. So, it was somewhat jarring that his first encounter with the insides of a human body would be with a dead person.

Bella, apparently braver than him, did peek. He took some comfort in the fact she was green around the gills and looked about as apprehensive as he felt. Then, she furrowed her brow looking…

Impressed?

Too curious, Edward turned around. He followed her line of sight and realized she was looking at the cadaver's package. He laughed, and when her head snapped up, she looked so guilty that he laughed even harder.

"You find something funny about cadavers, Mr. Cullen?" the professor asked, looking unamused.

"I'm sorry, sir." Edward patted the cadaver's arm. "I was thinking I should explain to Bella about the effects of formaldehyde on the male member."

The class tittered with nervous laughter, and Bella turned bright red. Edward thought he saw the professor fight a smirk. "Thank you for that distinction, Mr. Cullen. Yes, don't be so impressed, everyone. Your male cadavers wouldn't be so well endowed when it was only blood running through them."

When Edward turned back to his work, again he looked to Bella first. She had her mouth set in a thin line. Her cheeks were still bright pink.

Whoops. Right. He had kind of embarrassed her in front of the whole class. He hadn't meant to. Well, this was the opposite direction he wanted to go.

He leaned forward over the cadaver. "Hey, that was a shot in the dark. I was just jealous."

Her lip twitched. Her eyes flitted up to his, and a lightning bolt went down his spine. There was just something about the glint in the caramel brown of her eyes.

It was just a moment, and then she looked back down to the man on the table. Her eyes swept over him, her expression gone serious and sad. "I'm making the first cut," she said succinctly.

 _ **~0~**_

Whatever she felt about him, Edward and Bella worked well together. She was always professional when they were working. Never brash or rude. She was quick on her feet and good with her hands.

Yeah. Whatever this thing was he felt for her, working with her was only making it worse.

And fuck if he couldn't stop himself from poking the bear a little bit. Though, in his defense, she made it easy sometimes. He shot out test questions, and she identified the pieces of the body they were talking about along with the litany of things that could go wrong with that particular piece. Between questions, he shot out, "So, how long have you been married?"

Caught up in the rapid-fire back and forth, Bella started to answer. "Fi— Wait. That's none of your business."

He flashed her a grin. "Just curious."

She shook her head, standing back from the cadaver and taking her gloves off. "We're twenty-four, you know. We're not surprisingly young to be married."

"You didn't get married at twenty-four." Edward put his gloves on, irrationally pleased that she didn't sound defensive.

"Twenty."

His head snapped up. "Really?"

She quirked an eyebrow.

"You've been married for four years?" he asked.

"Look at you. Math genius."

Edward whistled. "Four years."

"Again with the counting."

 _ **~0~**_

"So, I have a question."

Bella looked up. There was definitely a smile playing at her lips. "I gather it's not about the inner workings of the leg, right? You know we have to finish this today. They're going to take the legs." She looked down at the cadaver. "Poor guy. Poor Dick."

Edward fought a grin. Bella had been very annoyed when he suggested they name their cadaver Dick after his first impression of her. She'd given in, apparently.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Edward said.

She pursed her lips, studying him. "If you don't want me to take something the wrong way, the best thing to do is not pitch it to me the wrong way."

"Fair point." He considered. "Look, I've never seen you hanging out with anyone."

"I have a husband, as you well know. I go home at the end of the day."

"I'm not talking about that. And before you tell me, I'm well aware this isn't any of my business. It's conversation." And despite her frequently dry remarks, she never did tell him to fuck off.

Bella waved a hand, indicating that he should continue.

"I'm saying I never see you hanging out with anyone on campus. I've personally seen you brush off people who are trying to chat with you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you trying to say I have no friends?"

"I'm sure you have friends."

She shrugged, looking back to Dick. "I really don't." Her eyes flicked up. "Are you satisfied?"

He furrowed his brow. "Why would I be satisfied at that?"

Another shrug as she began their latest incision. "I know you're trying to be friendly, but you're never going to convince me you're not competitive as all hell."

"I am competitive as all hell, and I have every confidence I'm going to kick your ass as a surgeon."

She looked up again, her eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off—

"So, wait. You think I'm being friendly in the name of competition? To like, what, disarm you or something? Like I'm waiting to disarm you and when you're defenses are down, then I strike? To do what?"

Her eyes darted back down again, her cheeks tinged pink.

"Bella, we can be competitive and still be friends. That's all I want."

"To be my friend."

He had no idea why she looked so incredulous. "Yes."

"And you think it's a good idea for us to be friends?"

He laughed. "For you? It's a very good idea to be my friend."

She glared at him. "Excuse me?"

Edward grimaced. "That came out wrong."

"But what did you mean?" she demanded.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay. Again, I'd like to make it clear I was being glib, not serious."

She stared. He grumbled, shifting his feet. "Do you know who the Chief-of-Medicine is at General?"

"Of course. Dr. Carlisle…" Her eyes went wide. "You're his son." She cocked her head. "So you're suggesting that being your friend would be in my best interest because your father is a big name on the medical scene of this city."

"Again, in my defense, I was mostly kidding."

She pursed her lips again, looking him up and down. "You really are a piece of work," she said, but her tone was more teasing than not.

"I stuck my foot in my mouth."

"You think?" Then, she smiled. A full, genuine smile. "You're kind of an asshole, Edward Cullen."

"I have heard that before."

With an adorable little laugh, Bella got back to work. "I don't have many friends," she said after a quiet moment. "I moved around a lot with my mother. I finally ended up in one place for my last year and a half of high school. It was a tiny town. Jake, my husband, was my best friend. We ran away from that town together for college.

"Unlike some people I know"—she glanced up at him with a _look_ — "there was a lot about school that didn't come easily to me. I had scholarships to keep, so I worked my ass off and didn't socialize much."

"Except with your husband."

"Yeah. So, anyway. Medical school is about a million times harder than regular school, and more expensive. I don't have a social life."

"Uh huh." That made Edward a little sad, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "So, maybe we can have dinner later this week."

She gave him a sharp look, and he put his hands up in a placating gesture. "Bring the husband. I like you." Her eyes narrowed, and he laughed. "I do. Don't ask me why. Let's all hang out. I'm sure I'll like him too."

 _ **~0~**_

Edward did not like Jacob Black.

The feeling was mutual. From the first alpha male handshake of death, almost everything Jacob did or said was passive aggressively rude. Edward didn't think much about jealous assholes. Though, it came to his attention that Jacob Black had hated him long before he ever met him for one simple reason: Bella had talked about him.

That was interesting.

The other interesting part of the evening was watching Bella interact with her husband. He understood that some people weren't touchy-feely, but they were something else. They were close; that much was clear. They were friendly. Friendly, not loving. In fact, about the tenth time Jacob tried to put his arm around her, she made a face and smacked his hand away.

"Why are you so damn grabby tonight?" she hissed under her breath.

So, obviously, that kind of affectionate touch wasn't typical for them.

Here was another thing Edward noticed the second time they all hung out: they didn't have a lot in common. Whenever one of them would get going on a topic they were passionate about, the other's eyes would glaze over. It was almost like they were used to smiling and nodding at each other. Bella was much more animated when she was talking to Edward about things that clearly went over Jacob's head.

It was all very interesting. He just wished he could stop thinking about it.

 _ **~0~**_

When it came time to crack Dick's chest cavity, Edward was at the helm. His textbooks had warned him it was a tough nut to crack. Boy, they weren't kidding. This was exactly why cadavers were a valuable teaching tool. What a relief that he didn't have to do this for the first time on a live patient.

On the other hand, poor Dick. Bella made a small noise in reaction to something stupid he'd done, and Edward spared a glance at her, fully expecting to see her judging him. She hated giving up the scalpel to him. She wasn't even looking at him. Instead, she was looking down at Dick, her face etched with such concern and sympathy, Edward's heart gave a little twist.

Then, he noticed she was holding Dick's hand, patting it consolingly. Edward gave a huff of laugh, drawing her attention. "He is dead, you know," he said quietly.

This time, her smile came readily. "Get back to work."

He smirked. "Yes, ma'am."

 _ **~0~**_

It was the custom of the med students to throw a sort of funeral for the brave souls who'd donated their bodies to science in order to make them all better doctors. It was a nice service. Poems and prayers were read. Eulogies were delivered. Though no one knew anything personal about their cadavers, there was something so personal—and a little disturbing—about having been cutting into them all semester long. They were colleagues if not friends.

After the words of solemnity and appreciation, they partied. In Edward's experience, no one partied quite like semi-exhausted med students.

Hubby Jake was out of town, and so Bella attended the festivities alone. It was, Edward found himself thinking, really nice to see her here among her peers. He had to wonder if Jacob could ever really appreciate her like this, could know how brilliant she was.

And he knew. He _knew_ he should stop thinking like that. But in between snippets of conversation and the two times he'd been able to see her socially, Edward felt like he knew something about Bella.

She dropped down onto the couch next to him, making an oof sound as she did. Her smile was brilliant, and her eyes sparkling as she looked over at him. Damn, she was beautiful.

"What are you doing over here being a wallflower?" she asked. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. She was tipsy, which would explain why she was sitting so close to him, kind of rocking up against him every now and again.

Hell, he was tipsy too. Maybe a little more than tipsy. Which would explain why he let his arm fall from the back of the couch to settle over her shoulders. "Technically, I'm being a couch flower."

"You got roots growing out of your butt?"

He chuckled. "Now that's a terrifying thought."

"So what's your excuse?"

"Pure laziness." He was twirling a strand of her hair around his finger, itching to let his fingers tangle in her hair.

"You are a lazy bastard," she said, still grinning. "And sloppy too. Not so smooth with a scalpel." She tilted her head, her expression teasing. "Maybe you should reconsider this surgeon thing. You're still a real doctor if you're only wielding a stethoscope."

"Uh huh." He turned his head, wondering exactly when they'd gotten _this_ close. "I know you're jealous of my skills, Bella, but lying isn't the route to go. It's unbecoming."

Her eyes lit up. "Unbecoming, huh?" She reached up, booping his nose with the tip of her finger. "Someone's been watching too many old English shows. Unbecoming of a lady to lie, is it?" She laughed.

"You're trying to distract me because it's the truth. It's okay to admit you're not the best. You're still good."

She hummed and booped his nose again. "And you're still delusional."

He grabbed her hand to still her finger, bringing it down between them. Then, without really thinking about what he was doing, he tilted his head and caught her lips with his.

She gasped, the little moan of surprise vibrating against his mouth. He paused, pulling back the barest millimeter. Oh, but he was dizzy. His head was spinning, and he'd gone from tipsy to full out intoxicated. That one taste of her had been so potent. He needed to kiss her again.

He did, though it occurred to him she remained frozen. He told himself to stop. It didn't matter that her shuddering breath was hot on his skin. It didn't matter that she felt good in his arms. He needed to stop, though he couldn't remember exactly why that was at this particular moment.

Her hand came up, cupping the back of his neck as she inhaled with a gust. The next second, she was kissing him. It was a hard kiss, a hungry one.

And just as quickly as she began, Bella was gone. She was on her feet, a hand clapped over her mouth. She looked around, her eyes wild, glanced at him, and then turned on her heel, walking away quickly.

He hauled himself to his feet and darted after her, calling her name. Down a relatively quiet hallway, he finally caught up to her. He reached out to take her arm.

She whirled on him. "Do _not_ touch me." She glared at him, and he put his hands up in a placating gesture. She spun on her heel again and continued on.

"Bella." Edward followed her as she powered out a door into the cool air of the evening. "Bella, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"No, you shouldn't have." She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "I knew this would happen. I knew you were full of shit."

That took him aback. "What?"

"Your whole thing about how you wanted to be friends. It was such bullshit, and I knew it. This was always your endgame. You—"

"Stop." He didn't like the feeling that was climbing in him. He was guilty—of course, he'd always wanted to be more than friends with her—but he was a lot of other things too. "Yeah, I like you. I _really_ like you."

"That's not my problem, Edward. I'm _married_ _._ You know my husband. For fuck's sake."

But again, she hadn't said she didn't like him. There was always something in what she didn't say. She was pacing now, a few steps forward and back, running her hand through her hair in agitation and then over her mouth as though to cover the scene of the crime.

Because he was drunk, because he ached with want, because he was young and arrogant and stupid, he said the words he'd been thinking for too long now. "He's not good enough for you."

Bella stopped short and stared at him. "What?"

He should have backed down. He should have backed down immediately. "Your husband. He's not good enough for you. He's not as smart as you are. He's not as quick. Not as...fucking anything."

She was staring at him, eyes wide and incredulous. And, oh yeah, he should back down, but…. "Look, I get it. I do. You guys are friends. You're really good friends, and that's comfortable. That's easy. That's nice when you're as busy as you are. It must be nice to go home to a man who won't demand anything from you. Who won't challenge you."

Her mouth snapped closed, and he knew just by looking at her that he'd made a fatal mistake. When she spoke, her voice was calm and cold. "You know, I don't condone violence by anyone. I really hate those shows and movies where the woman hauls off and slaps the guy, and everyone is okay with that because, hey! She's just a girl. But right now, I'm really reconsidering, you arrogant prick."

With that, she spun away from him again, disappearing into the night. This time, he didn't follow her.

* * *

 **A/N: A glimpse at the past….**

 **So. How's everyone?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello, kiddos. Ff was being mean, so if you're reading Empty Chairs, I updated that at some point.**

 **Let's see what these kids are up to.**

* * *

Of course Edward Cullen was good with kids.

Esme had arranged for a nice night out for the three participants and Edward to get to know one another. A private dinner, wine, and a fancy hotel room before they flew out the next day to their first school. Their families had been invited to dinner, but with exception of Tyler Crowley—the black, female CEO and President of a Fortune 500 company—that didn't apply. Tyler had brought her husband, her twelve-year-old son, and her three-year-old daughter. Edward was currently holding court with a captive audience, cool enough to make the sullen twelve-year-old smile and entertaining enough to make the little girl giggle.

Yes, because Edward was oh, so charming.

"I agree," came a smooth, amused voice. "He's obscenely attractive. He could still make it as an actor if the whole brain surgeon thing doesn't work out."

Bella sat up beginnings of a sardonic smile tugged at her lips as she looked to the side. In spite of herself, her heart gave a little flutter. Of course it did. Benjamin Touma was sitting directly across from her, flashing a dazzling grin.

On top of being a world class philanthropist, Benjamin also had the dubious honor of being a Hollywood leading man. He had three smash hit romance movies under his belt—a feat unheard of for a non-white male. Benjamin was Egyptian and devastatingly handsome.

Bella winced. She and Benjamin had been in the middle of a conversation when she got distracted. "I'm sorry. My mind wandered."

Benjamin hummed, glancing over the table at Edward and back to her. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

Her cheeks flushed, and he laughed. "That's not…" She shook her head, briefly tongue-tied. "Believe me, that's not what's happening here."

"Okay," Benjamin said easily. He sat back in his chair, hands folded behind his head. "Then your heart is free to pursue other options?"

Bella quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged and flashed that grin that netted him many millions of dollars a film. "The nightlife in New Orleans is unrivaled. If you're interested, I can arrange for a personalized tour."

"Personalized?"

"Mmhmm. If history is your thing, New Orleans is rich in history dating back to the 1700's. The area has belonged to the French and the Spanish." He waved a hand. "So there's plenty of trouble to get into there."

"How did we go from the nightlife to a historical tour?" Bella asked, sipping at her wine.

"Well. The French Quarter boasts a drunk history tour that I enjoy quite a bit." Benjamin leaned forward again. "But, if you're looking for a little night-time fun…"

He trailed off on purpose, and Bella found she was waiting for his next words with bated breath. "Yes?"

"There's always the paranormal. New Orleans is very well known for its paranormal activity."

Bella laughed. "Oh, I see. Do a cemetery tour at night and when they tell spooky stories about voodoo and ghosts, you get to slide in with this little move?" She made a gesture as if putting her arm around a cowering woman.

Benjamin tilted his head. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about. I mean, I'm a gentleman. I'm bound by the rules of decorum to offer my comfort to any lady in distress."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"And if a lady would prefer, instead, to check out the world-famous jazz scene and the stunning variety of drinks available, well who am I to say no?" He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on hers. The way he was worrying his fingertip around the edge of his wine glass had her all kinds of distracted. "So, would you? Say no, I mean."

Bella laughed, highly amused. Was he kidding? He was Benjamin Touma. She didn't have a hell of a lot of exciting stories she could tell at dinner parties. Like she was going to pass up a date with a superstar. In New Orleans of all places? "I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow night," she said casually.

He beamed.

"Bella?"

Bella turned her attention to Tyler. It turned into a group conversation not long after that, all of them making small talk. Tyler's little girl insisted on answering all the questions first.

After she established what exactly a hobby was, she screwed up her face, tapping on her lips in an expression of deep thought. "I think my most favorite hobby is Legos."

"Me, too," both Bella and Edward said. Both their heads snapped up, and for the first time that night, they actually looked at each other. For a moment, it was like all the volume in the room got turned down.

Tyler's daughter giggled. "Grown-ups don't play Legos!"

Edward held her gaze for another beat before he looked back to the girl with a smile. "Ha. Says you. But, I'll bet I don't play with the same kind of Legos as you do."

She screwed up her face adorably. "You don't play with baby Legos, do you?"

"No, not baby Legos. I mean, the really big sets. I did a Death Star last month. It had over four _thousand_ pieces."

"Wooooww," the little girl said, her eyes popped wide.

Bella was surprised for a different reason. "I just finished that one two weeks ago."

Edward looked up again. "You really do Legos?"

She waggled her fingers. "It keeps me nimble." It was exacting work.

There was something Bella couldn't define in his eyes, and his lips turned up the smallest amount. "Plus, it's the Death Star," he said.

"They even have the room where Obi-Wan can shut down the tractor beam," Bella said.

He pursed his lips ever so slightly. It was right on the tip of his tongue; she could see it. Those were the first light-hearted words they'd said to each other in well over a decade. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, waiting for him to call her on it.

"Well, my hobby sounds really boring now," Benjamin said with an exaggerated sigh. "I like to fly my fleet of helicopters around for funsies."

"Really?" Tyler said.

Benjamin stared at her with a bemused expression. "No, not really. You know your net worth is higher than mine, right?"

"You have a helicopter, Mom," Tyler's twelve-year-old said.

She chuckled. "I do. But it's for the company."

The conversation seemed far away in Bella's ears. She'd found herself frozen in Edward's sight, and she didn't know why. Her heart was beating fast, and her mouth was dry. Every fine hair on her body seemed awake and on edge, thrilling, waiting for the possibility of something.

And that, as always, pissed her off. She had an irrational wave of fury that Edward Cullen even existed, and a fleeting daydream that she could just give in, get a job on a surgical team in New York, far, far away from him.

"So, what do you do when you're not playing with Legos?"

Bella sucked in a sharp breath, finally able to look away from Edward. Instead, she looked at Benjamin and smiled. "You know those Metal Models? They come in little packs with instructions on how to bend the metal to make them into a carousel or the Empire State Building?"

"Or the Slave I," Edward said, naming another Star Wars ship that Bella indeed had on her shelf.

Bella looked to him again. Imagining what must be going on in his head made her all the more furious.

"Listen, guys, I have a phone call to make," Bella said, standing up. "I think I'll head to my room after that. I'll catch up with you on the plane."

Another minute later, she'd said all her goodnights, high-fived Tyler's little girl and shaken hands with Tyler's boy. She did make a quick call, checking in with her dad since it had been a while, but then she made a beeline for the hotel bar.

The bartender was busy, but it was just as well. There was a buzz in Bella's head that was making it hard to think. All she could hear was his voice in her head, so many years ago at that damn party.

" _He's not good enough for you_."

Bella didn't know why it mattered at this point; why she felt Edward was still comparing himself to Jacob. She had no reason to believe that's where his thoughts were at all. How would he know that Jake had been far too impatient for that kind of delicate work? And why the hell would the ability to make Legos and Metal Models mean he was better than Jacob anyway?

Not better than Jacob. Better for _her._ That had been what he was saying back then.

Bella clenched her jaw and her fists at her sides, breathing in through her nose. Nothing was about that anymore. Jake was long gone, his ashes scattered to the winds. And Edward…

She hated that he had this effect on her. She hated that all he had to do was exist, and it sparked her rage. Most of all, she resented the hell out of the fact she'd never been allowed to forget about him.

Massaging her temples, a memory from a year or so ago floated to the surface. It was another hotel bar at a conference. She'd had maybe one more drink than she should have, specifically because she wanted to stop thinking about him.

Of fucking course, one of the talks her boss had signed her up for—mandatory attendance—turned out to be a talk Edward was giving on a unique case he'd worked on. As much as she wanted to remain indifferent—and as much as she'd secretly been hoping he was a boring public speaker—he was witty and engaging. She found herself fascinated, sitting rapt with attention, and when the talk was over, she'd fought the urge to go up to him, bubbling over with more questions.

That night, a year ago, Bella had gone to the bar instead, wanting to forget he was somewhere in the same hotel. She was angry. Angry at herself and always, always angry at him.

Then, of course, there he was. She heard the unmistakable sound of his rich voice. He'd come in with a small group of people. One of the women with him was looking at him with big, doe eyes. Bella ducked her head, but he never glanced in her direction.

The little group sat near enough that she was hyper-aware of the cadence of his voice whenever he spoke. His laugh seemed to vibrate under her skin, equal parts irritating and, well…

He had a nice laugh. A deep chuckle that was obnoxiously pleasant. It sent delicious shivers down her spine just hearing it.

"What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

Bella took a deep breath before she opened her eyes. Wanting to distract herself, she started a little game. She let her eyes flick up from under her lashes, fixing the bartender in her sights. She smiled and his lips twitched. He leaned on the bar. "Moscow Mule?"

The bartender's smile perked up on one side. "You got it."

Bella had to fight a smirk as he got to work. She recognized the flourish in his drink-making moves. He made sure she was watching when he tipped more than a fair share of vodka in the mixture.

It was nice to know she was in control some of the time, anyway.

As the bartender went to the next patron, Bella let her thoughts wander again, stirring her Moscow Mule idly. Left to its own devices, her mind went straight back to Edward Cullen, remembering his gentle smile as he traded barbs with Tyler's son. Charming bastard. She'd wanted to smile, and that annoyed the hell out of her.

"Can I have a Moscow Mule?"

Bella froze. She closed her eyes and turned her head, hoping against hope that she'd only heard his voice because she couldn't seem to stop thinking about him. But no. When she opened her eyes, Edward was there, a few seats over. He leaned an elbow on the bar, ruffling his hair.

Craning his neck, he looked to the side, and it was somewhat gratifying to see that he was startled when he saw her. Then, his eyes flicked down to the drink in front of her and he grinned that irritating grin of his. "Well, will you look at that? We match. Again."

Bella sighed and took a deep drink. "Did we just become best friends?" she drawled.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Uh huh. And what was Jacob's drink of choice? He was a beer drinker, wasn't he?"

Bella sucked in a breath, leveling a glare. That answered that question, didn't it? Five years after his death, Edward was still comparing himself to her husband and making sure she knew that Jake came up wanting. It took all her considerable willpower not to throw her drink in his face.

Edward winced, gritting his teeth. "Shit. I didn't mean it like that."

Ignoring him, Bella chugged her drink, slammed it down on the bar, and slid off the barstool. She put a twenty down to cover her bill and stalked off, heels clacking.

"Bella," Edward called.

Even with her quick stride, he and his damn long legs caught up easily. He touched her arm, trying to get her to stop, and she whirled on him, pointing a finger at his face. "Don't touch me."

He held his hands up, his eyes intense on hers. "Sorry. Look, I'm sorry for all of it. That didn't come out the way I meant it to."

She stared at him, incredulous. "Oh, this I have to hear. What could you have possibly meant to say about my husband? What part of your supposedly-genius level brain thought even saying his name in my presence was a good idea?"

For once, he looked sheepish and uncertain. Almost little boyish. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know," he said with a grunt. "It slipped out. J— Your husband is like this big, pink elephant in the room. I thought maybe if we could talk about it somehow—"

"By you telling me again that I had nothing in common with him?" She shook her head, and turned away again.

Of course, he fell in step beside her. "I said it slipped out. And I wasn't trying to do that. I was just trying to find a way to bring him up."

The elevator dinged, and Bella headed down the hallway, whisper-yelling at him. "What the hell is wrong with you? You can't just leave it at us being professional when we absolutely have to, because you just can't fathom someone doesn't like you?" She stopped outside her room.

"This isn't about that. You're free not to like me."

"Oh, how generous of you."

He closed his eyes, sighing as though he found her very trying. A door opened, and they both looked up as a stranger exited his room. He glanced at them with a twitch of disapproval and headed down the hallway.

Edward sighed again and took a step closer to her, ducking his head to speak low. Bella pressed herself back against the wall on instinct. He was too close. She had the irrational urge to shove him.

"Look, we've never had a conversation about it, that's all," he said.

"And you think that'll accomplish something?"

"I have no damn idea, but look me in the eyes and tell me this is easy for you to deal with?"

"What are you talking about?"

He growled in frustration. "This." He gestured between the two of them. "This whole, 'if looks could kill' thing you have going on. I can feel it when you stare at me."

"I don't stare at you."

"Bullshit."

They stared at each other. He'd gotten closer. When had that happened? He was scant inches from her now. Her blood was hot in her veins, and she had to press her hands flat against the wall behind her to keep them still. Her eyes flicked down to his throat as he swallowed thickly and took a measured step back.

"If you were anyone else, I'd steer clear of you," he said. The timbre of his voice was low and throaty; it seemed to vibrate against her skin even from where he stood. "But it's not like I can stay away from you. Even all this aside, you know we're probably going to spend our whole careers together. Wouldn't it be easier on you if you weren't this angry at me all the damn time?"

"Oh, that's why you're doing this, is it? Pure altruism, because you're so concerned for me. How sweet of you. Such a sweet guy."

His lips screwed up at one corner, and he let out a grunt of frustration. "Why do you have to twist things like that? I respect you. The least you could do—"

"You respect me?" Bella didn't even try to manage her volume at that point. "You wouldn't know respect if it bit you in the ass." She turned, letting herself in her room.

He caught her door before she could close it, and she whirled. "And this is you _respectfully_ denying my privacy."

"I'm not…" He ran a hand through his hair, remaining in the doorway. "We can't keep doing this."

"Why? Because you say so?" She was up in his face. "Because you always know better than me what's best for my life?" She raised her palms to his chest, ready to push him the hell out of her room. "Because you—"

And he kissed her.

Whatever she was about to say came out as a startled yelp, muffled against his mouth. Fury and rage burned through her. She balled her hands in fists in the fabric of his shirt.

But rather than shove him away from her, as she very much meant to do, she dragged him toward her, into her hotel room. He stumbled forward, breaking their kiss as he caught himself against the wall, his eyes open and on hers.

Bella was made of fire. God, she hated him. She hated his tousled hair and his handsome face. They were both panting, glaring. His narrowed eyes searched hers.

She surged forward, pushing him up against the door so it slammed shut. Her mouth was on his, hard. Attacking. She tangled her fingers in his ridiculous hair, bringing him closer. And of course, he could never give her the upper hand. No, his arms wrapped around her. His tongue demanded access to her mouth.

Again and again, they came at each other. Bella knocked Edward's head back several times so hard that it thunked against the door. Still, he didn't relent. His hand pressed against the small of her back, bringing her flush against him.

Eventually, though, their kisses did slow. And that… That was when it should have ended. Really, it never should have started. She knew that, and yet…

His mouth fit so well with hers. His hands, pulling and pressing into her skin moments before, became more tender. Her hands came to cup his face as their kiss became more languid.

Her eyes were screwed tightly shut when she finally pulled away from his mouth. Her heart was in her throat, choked with an emotion she couldn't quite identify. It was pleasure and elation and guilt and betrayal and chaos. And want. Oh, God, she wanted. She shivered as he stroked her back so gently. He pushed her hair back out of her face, and she shuddered.

"You need to leave," she said, her flat voice just above a whisper.

"Bella—"

She turned out of his arms, taking several steps away before she opened her eyes. The sight of her hotel room—so neat and orderly—made her queasy. She ran a hand through her hair. Her eyes stung.

"Bella, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Bella laughed. The sound was as raw and frayed as her nerves felt. "Oh, so the great Edward Cullen doesn't know what's best in all situations."

"It's not that I didn't want—"

Bella whirled. " _I_ didn't want… I _don't_ want…" Fucking damn it. She hated being so tongue-tied. She shook her head, biting down hard on her lower lip as she struggled to keep her cool. "I want you out," she said coldly.

He stared. For a heartbeat, she was sure the bastard was going to argue. Instead, he turned around and walked out of her room, closing the door behind him with an incongruously quiet snick.

* * *

 **A/N: Sooooooooo...**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: You know what's great about having Tuesdays off? I can work Saturday and, on holiday weekends, I still get a three day weekend. :D**

 **Hope you guys are having a good time.**

* * *

Edward knew damn well he was out of line and out of control. But then, that was always the case where this particular woman was concerned.

For the millionth time since the night before, Edward kicked himself. Damn, stubborn woman. He wasn't that guy—the guy who didn't know how to keep his hands to himself. She made him into a man he didn't want to be.

No. She didn't make him anything. He was responsible for his own actions, which was another reason why his lack of control was disconcerting. She'd always been the very last person he should be interested in; the epitome of a bad idea. First, the married woman and now the woman who hated his guts.

Nothing about how he felt when he was around Bella was normal for him. To this day, he remembered the jolt that had gone down his spine when he first saw her. He'd been in class, only half listening, when the sound of her voice, the succinct summation of her response to the professor's question, drew his attention. He'd laid eyes on her and had to sit up straighter in his seat.

It wasn't that her beauty was striking. He never would have been able to pinpoint what it was. He just liked the look of her. He liked the way her hair flowed down her back, liked the way she held herself—straight and alert. He liked the cock of her head as she listened attentively to what the professor had to say, and he liked her ass in those jeans.

If Bella knew the way he'd watched her during that first class they had together, she'd have his balls. But that was the way it had always been with him. He'd been obsessed from the first glance, unable to shake whatever this was, the pull that was so much more than attraction or lust. He'd watched her, cataloguing bits and pieces of information, observing that she was smart and confident, yet unashamed of admitting where the gaps in her knowledge lay. She'd question a professor incessantly, often staying behind after class let out to get further clarification, if she didn't quite grasp a concept.

Edward had thought more than once about offering to tutor her. School had always come easy to him, and medical school was no exception. But no. He thought she seemed like the type who preferred to battle it out on her own.

There was something about Bella that unsettled him—made him restless in his own skin, desperate with want. Not necessarily a want to have something with her—although, that went without question—but at least to quiet the buzz in his blood. She drove him to distraction. Whenever he was near her, she quickly became the thing he was most aware of.

It had always been this way; he'd always been half out of his mind where she was concerned.

Shortly after the party where Edward had first kissed Bella, he'd vented to his best friend. To this day, he remembered his own agitation, how he paced around the living room of his apartment, ranting and making a mess out of his hair.

 _To his surprise, Santiago laughed. "Do you know what your problem is, Edward?"_

 _Edward stopped pacing to look at him. His friend was giving him a strangely thoughtful look. "You're not used to not getting what you want."_

" _What?" Edward narrowed his eyes. He gave a huff of a laugh. "Women have said no to me before. I'm not the kind of asshole who can't take no for an answer."_

 _Santiago held his hands up. "I'm not calling you an asshole. I'm just saying that you want this woman. I mean, you really want her. You like her, and you want her."_

" _And I'm not used to not getting what I want," Edward finished for him, glaring. "I'm not an entitled prick."_

" _Well…" Santiago smirked. "Look, don't get me wrong. You work hard. No one's saying you didn't work for the things you've accomplished, but seriously. Can you think of a time you've ever not gotten something you wanted? Something you_ really _wanted?" He ticked things off on his hand. "The car you wanted when you were sixteen. The school you wanted when you were eighteen and again when you were twenty-one. This kick-ass apartment. Every spring break trip you've dreamed of. Every summer in Europe or South America or...didn't you go to Antarctica once?"_

" _It was the same trip as South America. And I brought you on a couple of those."_

" _Yes, and I still appreciate it, but that's beside the point." Santiago grinned at him. "You want Bella the way you wanted all those things. They weren't whims. They were important to you, and so is she. You got all those things, and you can't have her. That's why it's driving you nuts."_

" _It's not a matter of me wanting her. She deserves more than her husband is giving her. She deserves—"_

" _You?"_

 _Edward scowled. "No, not me," he lied. Yes, him. It wasn't that Jacob was a horrible person. It was just that Edward was better suited for her in every way he could think of. "Just...I don't know. Not him."_

 _Santiago saw right through the lie and clapped him on the back. "This is what I mean, Eddo. Life just hasn't taught you that not only do you not always get what you want, but sometimes, it doesn't even matter if it makes all the sense in the world. It doesn't matter if you earned it. You might not get it. And you don't earn human beings, which means her husband doesn't have to deserve her. He just has to be the one she wants. That's it."_

He wanted her. Not in the passing way he wanted any woman he was vaguely interested in. He wanted all of her. Her friendship. Her smiles. Her beautiful mind. Important, Santiago had called her.

And there was no way he could have what he wanted. There never had been.

It had been Santiago Edward vented to again at lunch one day. It had been two years after Jacob's death. Edward had tried to approach Bella, and she'd turned the other direction, cold fury radiating off her.

" _It's not that I think she should be over it. Her husband died. That's horrible. But she knows." He dragged his breadstick through the artichoke dip with particular force. "It's just that she knows. She_ knows _. She's lost patients. She's lost patients exactly the way I lost Jacob Black. She knows how awful that feels."_

 _Santiago stared at him. "She knows how awful losing a patient feels? Edward, do you know how awful it feels losing someone close to you?"_

" _I appreciate that, but—"_

" _But nothing. She doesn't owe you rationality. You were the last one to see her husband alive. She's allowed to hate your guts, I mean, as long as she doesn't hurt you." He quirked a brow. "She beat you up or something?"_

 _Edward rolled his eyes._

" _Does she bad mouth you?"_

" _No," Edward said with a grunt. "She told a patient who had to transfer to my hospital that I was more practiced at endonasal endoscopies than she is." He paused. "Although, that's just the truth. I happen to have performed more than she has."_

 _Santiago fixed him with a look, and Edward sighed. "Professionally, she speaks as highly of me as I do of her."_

" _I guarantee you that most patients' loved ones don't even have to remember the surgeons who worked on their loved ones. You've lost other patients, right?"_

" _Yes, of course. And each of them has weighed on me."_

" _That's not the point. The point is that none of your patients' loved ones like you. The best they can do is forget you exist, but I'll bet some of them downright loathe you for letting someone die on your watch, even if it's an idle thought. People question all the time whether or not their doctors and surgeons did their best, gave their all, or even gave a fuck." Santiago smirked. "My mother was in the hospital last year. I'd swear up and down that ninety percent of the nurses were just eager to get back to their gossip. You don't even want to know what I thought about the doctor who could only spare us exactly four minutes every other day. And Momma lived."_

" _Well, if you had a bad experience—"_

" _Bella had a bad experience. Her husband died. She's under no obligation to say a single kind word to you, and that's even if you didn't have history." Santiago flashed him a sympathetic smile. "Deal with it, kiddo."_

Deal with it.

If she'd been any other patient's wife, that wouldn't have been a problem. He did try. After that initial attempt, he'd done his best to pretend she didn't exist when they were in the same room. He didn't look at her, didn't attempt to smile at her, and tried not to be anywhere that there was a chance they'd be in the same vicinity.

But then she'd showed up at his parents' house right in front of him. Damn her. He still didn't understand why she'd insisted on going through with the program when he was involved. Then again, Edward could have said no too. Why had _he_ insisted on going through with the program? He was doing his mother a favor, sure, but there were a lot of other people in her life that could have done what he was doing.

It didn't matter now. They were in it, and Edward was going to have to learn how to deal with the intensity of whatever the hell was going on between them. He was going to have to forget that both times he'd kissed Bella, she'd kissed him back. He was going to have to forget the niggling idea that maybe, just maybe, Bella had to fight just as hard as he did to ignore the pull between them.

Regardless, she didn't want to want him. That was clear, and that should be all he needed to know. It wasn't like she was going to cause any trouble for the project.

The morning they were all supposed to leave, Edward was up earlier than the rest. He was still pacing in the lobby, attempting to put out the first of what promised to be many fires on this trip. Their flight had been delayed. He'd told his mother it was a dumb idea to schedule their first engagement in same afternoon they flew in. So, now he was arranging a new flight and arguing with the airlines about what they were going to do about the money spent on the old flight.

Edward was on hold when the others came downstairs. They were far enough away that he couldn't tell what they were saying, and maybe that was a good thing. As it was, his stomach churned and anger had his free hand curled in a fist.

Bella and Benjamin were walking together. They weren't touching, but his head was bent toward hers, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her smile grew wider, into a full blown laugh at whatever he said.

Edward turned away, trying not to scowl. What the hell was she doing with him anyway? She was way too smart to fall for his charming act. He was an actor, for fuck's sake, and not one known for long-term relationships. He was just after one thing. Was she really going to let herself be dazzled? She was better than that.

"Mr. Cullen? Is that an acceptable option?"

Giving his head a shake, Edward turned his attention back to the phone conversation. He had a job to do.

 _ **~0~**_

Fucking faulty airplanes.

In his quest to keep as far away from Bella as possible, Edward had chosen a seat at the back of the original plane while her seat was at the front. The new flight was crowded, and as a result, Edward was seated right behind Bella.

Of course, of fucking course, Benjamin had charmed the people in the seat next to Bella so both he and Tyler were in the same row. Naturally, being a gentleman, Benjamin took the middle seat. He was charming the pants off both women, though he was trying particularly hard in Bella's case.

Edward's jaw ached from being clenched for so long. He had a moment's vindication when Bella started to correct the asshole on New Orleans' history. He'd been showing off and, as Edward expected, was so full of crap.

Benjamin tsked. "You were going to let me make a fool of myself, weren't you? Take you around New Orleans, telling you stories you already know."

Bella chuckled. "Like I was going to pass up a chance like that. You usually get paid millions of dollars for your storytelling services, don't you? I'm a sucker for a good deal."

"Sucks to be you. I'm not going to take you on a history date anymore."

A date? They were already going on a date? Christ, they'd met yesterday.

"Your loss, buddy boy," Bella said, taunting him right back. "I'm excellent company."

"I didn't say we weren't going on any date. Just not a history one."

"There are other kinds?" Bella asked in mock surprise. "Well, I've been missing out all these years. What are we talking here, a seedy bar and a pool table?"

"How about jazz?"

"All that jazz?"

"New Orleans is known for its jazz scene."

Bella hummed. "I'm more of a country girl," she said with a slight twang.

Edward arched an eyebrow. "Really?" Benjamin asked, sounding surprised.

"No," Bella said, deadpanned.

Benjamin gave a huff of laughter. "I see how you are." He was so charmed by her; Edward could tell. "Do you know how to dance?"

Now it was Bella who laughed. "Oh, hell no."

Yeah. Hell no.

"Come on. It's easy," Benjamin cajoled.

The lady said no, Edward wanted to tell him. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"I can teach you," Benjamin said.

Of course he could.

"We'll go to a place with a live band. I bet you'll know how to swing dance by the end of the night."

"You're so full of shit," Bella said, her tone incredulous.

Benjamin shifted in his seat, offering her a hand. "Come on. I'll bet you."

Beside them, Tyler chuckled. "Dancing's fun, Bella. It's not too hard when you have a good partner." There was a suggestive lilt to her tone. "Especially in the big easy. Jazz goes right to your bones." Her shoulders shimmied as she danced in her seat. "It's as easy as breathing."

Funny. Edward thought he liked Tyler last night.

"It's not easy for someone with no rhythm," Bella said. She hadn't touched Benjamin's hand. As far as he could tell, the man was still holding it up, ready to shake on it.

He shook it at her. "Come on. I'll bet you. Friendly wager."

"For what?"

Yeah, Benjamin. For what? Edward knew exactly what he wanted. Bastard was caught.

"Hmm." Benjamin hummed. "If I can have you out on the dance floor, dancing a swing dance, you owe me a trip to Griffith Observatory when you go to LA next week."

"Ha." Bella shook her head, but she sounded amused. "You're angling for date number two when you haven't been on date one yet?"

Edward gnashed his teeth. It'd be a damn good date too. An observatory he knew had a great view of the city, particularly at night.

"What's it matter? You suck at dancing, remember? So it should be no problem. I'm going to lose the bet."

"And if you lose the bet?"

"Then I have to charm you the old fashioned way, I suppose. Though, LA is my hometown. I can pretty much guarantee—"

"I mean, what do I get when I win?"

"Oh, right. Hmm. Do you want to meet Ryan Reynolds?"

Oh, for the love of…

Bella sputtered. "I…" She huffed. "What makes you think I have any interest in that?"

"Anyone who doesn't think he's attractive at least thinks he's funny."

"Take the bet. For God's sake, girl," Tyler said. "There is no losing in this situation."

Sure, Edward thought. If dignity wasn't a big loss.

"Fine. Teach me to dance." Bella shook Benjamin's hand.

 _ **~0~**_

It had been a long damn day. He'd herded everyone directly from the airport to the first school, while simultaneously making sure their luggage got to the hotel. Of course, there was a problem at the hotel that Edward had to take care of while his people were ushered out in front of a small auditorium full of kids.

He'd slipped into the back of the dilapidated space just in time to catch the tail end, where Bella, Benjamin, and Tyler were taking questions from the kids.

Edward had always liked watching Bella speak. If she wasn't talking about medicine—procedure and technicalities—there was a hint of shyness about her. She did this thing where she tilted her head into her hand, playing with a strand of hair and stumbling a bit over her words.

It was nice to see her off her game—like he was catching a crack in the armor she wore. Yet, even in her most self-conscious moments, her answers were well thought out.

"I mean, I'm kind of a zombie, right?" she said, grinning at the kid who'd asked her a question. "You know. Braaains. Brrrraiiins." She had her hands tucked up tight to her chest, cringing in a zombie pose.

The kids had laughed, and Edward smiled. She was so funny sometimes.

They'd all gotten to the hotel eventually. Edward had phone calls to make, so the other three had dinner together. Edward had gotten back to the hotel's restaurant just after Bella had excused herself.

"She's gotta freshen up," Tyler said, chortling. She bumped Benjamin's side, and the man had the audacity to wink at her.

"Right," Edward said, his throat tight. He made an effort to keep his tone light. "We have two schools tomorrow. One of them is early, so…"

Benjamin tilted his head a tick, something going through his eyes as he studied Edward. "Of course," he said smoothly. "We'll be back before we turn into pumpkins."

"Right."

Edward had tried to distract himself. He called his mother to let her know, in great detail, how it had all gone. He talked to his father. He returned a few calls from the hospital about a few cases he'd left pending for the few days he'd be gone. He did everything he could not to think about Benjamin leading Bella in a dance, his arms around her, catching her when she stumbled.

He ended up downstairs at yet another bar. It wasn't such a great idea considering he'd done the same damn thing the night before. This time, though, he wasn't going to accidentally find Bella there. He wasn't going to try to talk to her, and he wasn't going to end up kissing her.

And she wasn't going to kiss him back. She was going to kiss—

"Can I get you another, buddy?" the bartender offered.

"Oh, hell yes."

Another hour later, Edward's head was finally clear. He'd made his way up to the outdoor pool area of the hotel. The night air cooled his heated cheeks. He looked out at the lights of New Orleans, listening to the not-so-far off strains of music filtering up into the night air. There was a couple on the other side of the wide space, but the pool was closed. The lights cast an eerie blue glow, distorted by the water.

Edward sat in the darkness, finally free of his helpless obsession for a few minutes. He was so sick of being plagued by the need to relieve some of this tension. Why did he care so much?

For the moment, it didn't matter. He enjoyed the smell and sounds of the city. He smiled at the laughter of the couple at the other end of the space.

Minutes or an hour may have passed. The couple had left or else they were busy doing quieter things. Edward was watching the stars. He heard the click-clack of a woman stepping across the concrete at a measured pace. The sound stopped right near his head. Edward, spaced out, hardly noticed her presence until he heard her sigh.

He looked up and, sure enough, Bella was there. She was looking out at the same view, pulling her sweater tighter over her shoulders. His heart gave a weird twist as he stared at her. She seemed wistful, her expression far off, and her hair ruffling in the light breeze.

He laughed. He couldn't help it. It was a sound of resignation. "So, who won the bet?"

She gasped, stumbling a few steps backward. Her wide eyes narrowed as she saw him there. "What did you say?"

Edward unwound himself, sitting up and staring into her eyes. "Did you dance?" He didn't want to think of her dancing with Benjamin, but he did like to think of her dancing—the way her hips would move.

"What business is it of yours?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

He laughed again and stood. He took a step toward her without thinking. "It's none of my business," he murmured. His eyes traveled up and down her body. He liked her flirty dress. "Griffith Observatory is nice. They filmed parts of _Rebel Without a Cause_ there." He liked the red of her lipstick. He couldn't help staring at her lips. "There's a bust of James Dean." His eyes met hers again. "And the stars are pretty."

She swayed in place, her head tilted up as she watched him. He took a step closer, and she didn't move. Her eyes were fire and uncertainty and…

God, he wanted to kiss her. He raised a hand as if to touch her, stopping when she flinched. She held her ground, swallowing audibly. He let his hand drop to his side.

"You didn't go home with him," he said, his drink-addled mind slow on the uptake. It was still relatively early, and she was wearing the same clothes she'd left the hotel in.

She pressed her mouth into a thin line. "What is it to you? Or let me guess. He doesn't deserve me either."

"He doesn't." Edward growled the words.

Now she was the one to take a step toward him, and though she was so much shorter, she seemed to tower over him, her glare piercing. "It must be nice being you. Edward Cullen knows everything. You don't even have to ask him. He's glad to tell you what you should and shouldn't want for your own life."

She pushed past him, her heels click-clacking. His hand darted out and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her back. She gasped, her fist clenched, but she didn't yank her arm back. She stared at him. He stared back.

One. Two. Three tense seconds passed. He swallowed hard and let go of her, taking a large step back. She held his gaze for another heartbeat. Then, she turned and hurried back inside.

* * *

 **A/N: Many thanks to my long suffering pre-readers, Mina, Packeh, Betsy, MoH, Eleanor, and Ausha took a peek at this one while I wrestled with it.**

 **So! How's trix?**


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Good morning, sunshines. *innocent whistles*

* * *

"Bella, slow down."

Bella looked at her mother over the rim of her wine glass. She considered temperance, then decided against it. She gulped until the wine glass was empty and set it on the table with a clunk. "I have a lot of catching up to do after the week I've had." She signaled the waiter to bring her another.

Renee took a more ladylike sip of her own wine. "It's not that I'm against drinking, baby. It's just if you're going to chug something, let it be beer."

"See, the problem with that is beer is disgusting." Bella took a deep breath and exhaled, letting all her frustrations go with it. "I just needed a headstart on getting tipsy. Don't worry. I'm well into adulthood now. I know how to feel good without getting drunk. I'm okay now."

"I didn't mean to add stress to your life, Bella. It was a bad time for me to come visit."

Bella smiled at her mother. "Actually, you're just the person I want to see today." Admittedly, when her mother first told her that she'd be in town long enough to have dinner, Bella had been exasperated. It was always going to be a busy time for her. She'd spent three days in New Orleans, and had five days back at home before she was off to Los Angeles and then Phoenix. Those five days had to be spent attending to her patients, referrals, and consults, on top of the surgeries she had scheduled.

So, yeah. Normally, Renee's visit in that already jam-packed time would have been annoying. But… "You're the only one I can vent to."

A knowing smile came over her mother's face. "Ah, I've been wondering how it's been working with Edward."

After Jake died, both her parents had been there for her while she'd wandered around her house, mad with grief and mumbling about how Edward Cullen had killed her husband. Charlie, bless his good heart, had taken her literally. He'd asked her if she wanted to do something about it legally.

Renee, on the other hand, understood. Bella needed to speak her suspicions out loud. Had Edward been distracted? Could he have saved her husband if only he'd been paying attention?. She needed to rant and rave, and it didn't have to make sense.

It wasn't gross negligence that had killed Jake. But Bella could never shake the idea that it had been Edward holding the scalpel—a man who thought he was better than Jacob in every way. It was never going to sit well with her. Especially now that Jake was gone, she needed someone who wouldn't try to reason with her or solve the problem Edward presented. She just needed them to smile and nod and agree he was ridiculous, like Jake had.

"I hate the way he gets under my skin," Bella said with a sigh. "I want him to be nothing. I don't want to care about what he does as long as it has nothing to do with me."

"But it's like that thing where they bug you so much everything starts to annoy you, right?" Renee said. "Like the way they eat crackers. There's a woman at my work who annoyed me because she took credit for my idea. Now, every time I see her, she's doing something horrible. I _hate_ the way she eats crackers."

Bella grinned. "I hate the way he drinks. You know, when he drinks alcohol. He does this." She leaned back in her seat, doing the 'cool guy' pose, sipping her wine like she knew she was sexy.

Her mother chortled. "All ego, huh?"

"He can be." Bella sighed. Despite herself, bitterness crept into her tone. "I guess he has a reason this week."

Because, of course, despite having the same desperately busy schedule she did—possibly even busier because he was arranging things behind the scenes and had a recovering father to visit—Edward had managed to get himself mentioned in a few newspapers. One of the city's star athletes had suffered a massive head injury during a game and ended up on Edward's table. It had been a tricky surgery. The man would likely never play again, but he was alive and in relatively good health thanks to Edward's expertise.

"Could you have performed the surgery?" Renee asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Then what's so special about him? He was just doing his job. His hospital was closest to the stadium. Whoop dee doo."

Bella laughed. "I love you, Mom." Her phone chimed, and she brought it out, knowing it might be from the hospital. "Oh." She had to smile at the text she found. "What a punk."

"Who's a punk?" Her mother craned her head even though there was no way she was going to see the text from that angle.

"Benjamin." Bella shook her head. "He got me to dance when we were in New Orleans last week, and ever since then, he's been trying to convince me I didn't look like an asshole. He said he showed a tape to a casting director who wants me for the next Dirty Dancing remake because I was better than the last one." She shook her head and tapped back. "That's not saying much, now is it."

"Wait a minute. Someone got you to dance in New Orleans?" Renee furrowed her brow. "Someone named Benjamin." Her eyebrows shot for her forehead. "Bella. You went dancing with Benjamin Touma?"

Bella's cheeks burned and she looked around them. "Will you keep it down? It's not a big deal, Mom."

Renee leaned across the table, hissing her words in her excitement. "Not a big deal? Why the heck are you stuck on Edward Cullen when you have Benjamin Touma texting your personal number, obviously flirting with you?"

Bella sighed, but she had to admit it was a good question.

 _ **~0~**_

After the flight and checking into the hotel. The LA trip began as expected. The flight was uneventful. Bella noticed that Edward was clear across the plane from her, but she and Tyler were in a seat together. The hotel check in went as planned. Benjamin, who lived in LA and therefore hadn't flown there, joined them for a dinner out with a few members of the school board who wished to meet with them before they visited schools the next morning. Afterward, he whisked Bella off on the date she'd promised him.

Playing it cool though her inner fangirl was screeching, Bella pretended to sigh over the fact she'd let him win in the first place. "I still don't know what came over me. I don't dance."

"You did that night, baby, and you were spectacular."

Bella rolled her eyes, though she was secretly pleased at the praise. "I didn't fall on my face. That's the most I can say about my flailing."

"That's all dancing is, isn't it? Flailing with a little flair." He held his hand out, gallantly helping her up the large step at the top of the winding staircase they'd just climbed. "And is it so bad to have to go out with me again?"

"Worse things have happened to me," she said with a dramatic sigh. "Though a private tour of the parts of Griffith Observatory no one gets to see is just plain showing off, you know."

"Right, because offering to introduce you to Ryan Reynolds wasn't."

"I really shouldn't have let you convince me to dance."

"Uh huh." Benjamin smirked, leading her over to a wide window. "Look."

She did, and the sight knocked her breathless. Below them, in the valley, Los Angeles sparkled. The sun had almost set, casting an orange glow over the foothills behind them and the expanse of the city below. Above that, the black sky was speckled with stars. "Wow."

Benjamin came up behind her, and when his hands fell on either side of her waist, she shivered. It was such a delicious thrill. It had been a while since anyone had touched her like this. Her life was so busy, it was hard to connect with anyone for so much as a tryst.

"You're beautiful," he murmured in her ear, tightening his hold around her waist and bringing her back against him. "Did you know that?"

"I forget sometimes," she said with a sigh. It was the simple truth. In her line of business, she didn't get to think about her femininity too often.

"That's a tragedy."

Bella let herself relax and forget the litany of things zinging around her head every single day. It was a beautiful night, and a gorgeous, charming man had his arms around her. She exhaled and opened her eyes, enjoying this incredible gift she'd been given. A chance to see this tiny portion of the world from a viewpoint few ever would.

It was then that her eyes caught sight of a familiar person. She went rigid, sucking in a sharp breath. She'd long lamented this particular "gift" of hers. She'd always been able to pick Edward out of a crowd.

What the hell was Edward Cullen doing there?

"Are you okay?" Benjamin asked, pulling back slightly.

Bella huffed. "Yeah, just startled." She pointed. "Look. That's Edward and he's with Tyler."

"Oh." Benjamin's tone seemed to have dropped several degrees. "Is that a problem for you?"

"No," Bella said quickly. It was a lie, but not for the reason Benjamin likely thought. She turned her back on Edward and wrapped her arms around the man who was right in front of her. "It just startled me, that's all. That he would be in the same place. It's just a coincidence."

Benjamin hummed, his dark eyes studying her with a look she couldn't read. "Tyler said she loved observatories when we talked last week. She probably just wanted to come here herself and asked Edward to join her."

"Probably," Bella said, and pulled his mouth down to hers.

Benjamin was a good kisser. That should have been all that mattered, but it wasn't. Of course it wasn't. She was hyper-aware of Edward's presence among the milling people below.

It was no coincidence that he was here. Tyler was a good excuse, but she knew better. She remembered the way his eyes had bored into hers as though he'd known what she'd done that night—let a beautiful man kiss her—and he had the right to protest. He'd known that Benjamin had won their joke of a bet, and he was angry about it.

Just like that, Bella was angry too. She broke her kiss with Benjamin with a gasp, turning her head.

"Bella?" His voice was husky and confused.

She closed her eyes, conflicting emotions running through her. She wanted Benjamin. He was sexy, smart, charming. He was uncomplicated. He liked charming her, and made no secret that his ultimate aim was to get her into bed. They were two extraordinarily busy people who would only be in each other's lives a short time. They both knew what they were after.

But this _thing_ with Edward… It was so loud. Shouting over everything else, everything sane. She was livid and annoyed.

With a wry, self-deprecating laugh, she turned out of Benjamin's arms. "What the hell is wrong with me?" she muttered, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

Benjamin studied her. He didn't look mad, merely curious. "You were here with me and then you were gone. Where did you go?"

"Nowhere I wanted to be, believe me." She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him. She hated the vulnerable feeling that came over her again. She was giving herself whiplash. "I'm sorry. I can't do this tonight."

 _ **~0~**_

Benjamin was an absolute angel about her bout of insanity. He'd even held her hand as they strolled back to the car he had waiting for them. He'd even offered to take her back to his place anyway.

"We can watch a movie," he said. And while she was sure he thought he'd be able to get her to relax, Bella had a much more pressing offer.

If anything, Benjamin's calm sweetness and easy humor only made Bella angrier. Fuck Edward Cullen and the horse he rode in on. Whatever game he was playing, he was succeeding in messing with her head. She was obsessed and consumed and so fucking done.

To make matters worse, she knew this would all make it seem as though he were right. He'd said they needed to talk. Clear the air. Dissipate the tension that existed like a physical entity between them. Because, of course, Bella's plan of pretending he didn't exist unless she had to speak to him directly for the project wasn't good enough.

He was such an infuriating, arrogant bastard. Clear the air. What the hell ever. She was going to figure out what the hell his malfunction was, and he'd be lucky if she could resist the urge to punch him in his aggravating, obnoxiously good-looking face.

Since she and Benjamin hadn't left the observatory until after closing hours, Bella assumed Edward had had enough time to get back to the hotel. She bypassed the elevator—by that time, she was in no mood to wait—and went for the stairs, heading up to the third floor. He wanted to clear the air? Fine. She'd let him know exactly what she thought of him. Let him try to tell her again that he was better than Benjamin, better than Jake. She was going to bust that bubble good and proper.

When she got to his door, she banged her fist hard against the wood. She had to clench her fists at her side to keep from going overboard, banging on it continuously so he wouldn't be able to ignore her. It was going to be hard to maintain her civility. She was so angry; she swore she was about to boil out of her skin. She tried to practice her words, but nothing sounded good. She hated that he would see how much he was getting to her. He was under her skin, and she was going to do whatever the hell it took to get him out. Clear the air indeed.

The door came open, and he stood there in front of her, dressed down in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt. His hair was rumpled, and he didn't look particularly surprised to see her. Of course he didn't. Part of his plan, whatever the hell that was? He stared at her as though daring her to speak, daring her to do something about all of it.

She was out of breath. She licked her lips, glaring right back. Words roared in her head. Too many words. All the words. Adrenaline seized her, urging action, like a flight-or-fight reflex stuck on fight, fight, fight. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, unsure for a horrible second if she was going to start screaming or if she really was going to punch him in his annoyingly perfect face.

In the end, she did neither. What she did do was grab his t-shirt in one fist and drag him down to her level. She kissed him. Hard, thrusting her tongue into his mouth even as she shoved him backward into his room. Once she was over his threshold, she slammed the door behind her.

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, I'll write the next chapter sooner than later.**

 **Smooches!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: My darlings. Tyler is very married. Remember, Bella was watching Edward with her kids a chap or two ago? Just saying. :)**

* * *

When someone pounded on Edward's door, he knew he was caught. It had to be Bella, and he didn't have to guess she was pissed. When he hadn't seen her at the observatory, he thought his bout of insanity had slipped harmlessly under the radar. No such luck. She'd seen him.

He had no good excuse. No doubt she was about to march in here and tell him he was borderline-psychotic. The trouble was he'd spent the last week obsessing about what kind of date Benjamin was planning. Of course, Bella hadn't told him which one of them lost the bet—aka, Benjamin's pathetically transparent method of assuring she'd have to go on another date with him. He'd obsessed about it both ways, torturing himself as he imagined every scenario. At the height of his madness, he'd even pictured Bella being tag-teamed by Benjamin and Ryan Reynolds.

Deadpool was ruined for him now. Emmett would be disappointed. Santiago was going to laugh his ass off.

When Benjamin and Bella disappeared after dinner, Tyler hadn't helped matters any. She thought the idea Benjamin was showing Bella a good time was sweet. After all, Tyler said, if Bella had any sense in her at all, he didn't need to jump through so many hoops to seduce her.

Tyler was a funny and vivacious woman. Under different circumstances, Edward would have enjoyed her memories of her single and frisky days, but she kept inserting Bella into her stories.

The words had been so easy when Tyler gave him the opening. She wanted to see the observatory too.

"We don't have to let them stop us," he'd said. "Why don't we go? It's not like it's a private party. Unless the show-off has done something over-the-top like rent out the whole place."

So, he'd done the crime. Now he'd have to face the consequences. Christ, maybe she really would slap him this time, pacifist or not. He braced himself and opened the door.

She didn't slap him. What she did do was the equivalent of driving his head into a brick wall for all it seared his vision white and blanked out every thought in his head. It was as though reality warped, bent like a television on the fritz, distorting the picture and reducing all sound to a buzz.

His back hit the wall, pushing all the breath out of him. He tilted his head up, freeing his mouth and gasping for air. She pulled back too, but only by an inch or so. She looked like he felt—all dark, wild eyes and flushed cheeks. Her breathing was just as ragged. Her fingers still gripped his t-shirt like she was about to punch him. And maybe she still would when she realized how hard he was.

He licked his lips, trying to restart his brain. "What the fuck?" were the only words he could find, and those sounded raw and scratchy to his ears.

She scoffed, still so close to him that her breath puffed hot on his face. "Is this not how you imagined this part?"

"What?"

Her eyes dropped down to his chest, following the movement of her hands as she smoothed his shirt. If Edward had any hope of getting his wits about him, they were gone. She was touching him. It was a slow touch, intensely erotic, though he couldn't put his finger on why. "You had to have a plan." Her voice was throaty, and she had swallowed up what little space existed between them. "You haven't left me alone since this thing started. I'm not the one who chases you, Edward. I'm not the one who won't leave you alone. I'm not the one who follows you whenever you try to get away. You chased me out of your parents' house. You followed me to my room in New Orleans. You showed up on my goddamned date."

In contrast to her sharp words, her hands were gentle as they slid over him, feeling him through his shirt, teasing lower. Her fingers moved in a caress though her tone and the look in her eyes, as she flicked them back up to meet his, promised violence. Without a doubt, she was dangerous, and it was turning him the fuck on.

"So tell me," she said. "What was the plan? What was the thing you were going to do to make me finally realize you really are better than any other man for me?"

He stared at her, arguments born in his throat that died on his tongue without making a sound. His blood roared in his ears. His mouth was dry. His heart pounded. Her eyes dared him, and something in him snapped.

He'd wanted her for too long—this infuriating, beautiful, painfully unattainable woman—and she'd just given him a taste of the one thing he'd told himself over and over he'd never get.

With one more ragged breath, he crashed his lips into hers. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her all the way against him. She made a sound that was half whimper, half cry, swallowed by his mouth, before she returned his kiss in kind. Her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping and soothing. He cupped her ass—Christ, how long had he wanted to do that—and pressed her hips against his.

Fisting his shirt again, she pulled him away from the wall, never breaking their kiss. He slipped his hands under her shirt, devouring smooth skin with his fingertips, pressing and caressing and squeezing.

He really couldn't tell if he was walking her backward or if she was dragging him forward. Both, he thought. When she pulled, his hands roamed her body. When he pushed, she cupped him between his legs. He hissed, pulling back with a gasp, but she put her hand to the back of his head, pulling him back to her mouth.

By the time they were standing at the foot of the bed, they were both shirtless. It was filthy to see her like this in the flesh. He'd felt guilty every time he fantasized about her, yet here she was in front of him, her breasts pushed up and decorated by a stunning red bra.

A bra she'd worn for another man.

With a low growl, he tightened his grip on her waist and spun her around. Ripped from his mouth, she gave a startled cry, but he'd pressed a hand to her stomach, pinning her to him. She turned her head to the side, and his lips were there to meet her. He kissed her hard, nibbling on her bottom lip as he let his hands run up and down, teasing the edge of her bra and the waistline of her jeans.

Muffling a moan against his lips, she arched back against him, stretching her arms up to tangle her fingers in his hair again. Her tongue, as she probed his lips, was just as demanding. He let her take him like that, but his hands sought more of her. He rubbed her between her legs, over her jeans, and when she gasped, he flicked the button of her jeans open.

Satin and a tiny bow. Yeah. The panties matched, and he wanted to rip them off her. She'd worn them for Benjamin, but Edward was the one who was going to claim her.

But before he could make good on that thought, she spun in his arms. She took him by the waist, pulling him around, and pushed him hard at the center of his chest. Caught off guard, he fell backward on the bed. She straddled him, her hands on his chest, like she was pinning him to the bed. Leaning down, she kissed him again.

This was all happening so fast. Hard, rough kisses. Grabbing, pulling hands. Even the motion of her body as she ground her hips against his, dry humping him into the mattress, was frantic. There was a violence to what was happening here. It wasn't malevolent, but it was intense. Vehement. So fucking hot.

So fucking wrong. So fucking destructive, and that was the opposite of what he really wanted.

"No," he said with a strangled groan. His hands shot out, and he caught her by both wrists even as she sought to pull his sweatpants down.

She dragged her mouth away from him. Her eyes met his, all fire. "No what?" she demanded.

Her face was still so close it made him dizzy. Some part of him screamed. What the hell was he doing? He could be inside her in another minute, driving home. The things he'd do to her would make her forget any other man existed. He licked his lips and willed himself to ignore just how hard his dick was. He looked her in the eyes, trying to catch his breath. "Just, no."

"No." With a scoff, she yanked her hands from his grip and sat up. Her eyes searched his, and he caught just a hint of devastating vulnerability in her expression before she swung around, turning her back to him and putting her feet on the floor. "Christ, Cullen. Just tell me what the hell game you're playing, because you're making me insane."

He sat up quickly, grabbing her around the waist before she could stand. She cringed away from him, but not all the way. He felt the shiver go through her as he leaned in, skimming his nose along her hair until his lips found her ear. "If we do this like this, you're going to hate me."

"I already hate you," she snapped through clenched teeth.

"No, you don't." Suddenly he was sure of it. If she despised him, she wouldn't be here. "But if I let you do this, you will."

"If you let me do this? Do you ever think before you speak? Jesus Christ."

"You can't really want it to happen this way."

She shoved him and stood, pacing a few feet to the window where she stood with her back to him, her shoulders rising and falling sharply with each breath. She let out a wry, humorous laugh and spoke with almost no inflection. "You really do think you know everything. You fucking arrogant bastard."

Now that his brain was semi-functional again, much to the chagrin of his raging hard-on, Edward scrambled to find the right words. Regardless of her intentions at the time, she'd come to him and she wasn't running. "Surgeons are supposed to be arrogant. That's kind of our thing, isn't it?"

Another scoff. She looked around, grabbed her shirt from where it had been tossed on the floor, and pulled it on as she whirled on him. "You really don't have a clue how fucking obnoxious you are, do you? That's not the kind of arrogance I'm talking about. You need to hear the words direct from my mouth? Fine. You strut around any hospital you want, hot shot. You've earned it. You deserve to be arrogant about the things you've done in the field. Even I'll admit that."

"Then how else am I arrogant?"

"With this." She gestured between them. "With us. With me. You always think you know what's best for me, what I should want, and when, and how. You took one look at me and thought you could tell me how to live my life. You were twenty-two years old, and some kind of fucking genius, but that doesn't mean you knew anything about me and my relationship."

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to face the accusation in her eyes. This was a long time coming. "It was out of line, okay? I shouldn't have said it, but don't talk to me like I'm some asshole off the street. Like I just wandered up to you in a bar or something and said what I said without knowing a damn thing about you. I knew you, Bella. We knew each other. I shouldn't have said it, but have you ever thought that you've been so damn pissed at me since then because you know I wasn't completely wrong?"

She stared at him, incredulity and fury written clearly on her face. "You're a real piece of work, you know that? I'm not trying to say you were wrong. What made you arrogant was that you always think you have something to teach me. Has it ever occurred to you that I wasn't actually a naive, doe-eyed child you needed to educate and save? Did you for one moment even consider that I knew exactly what my relationship with my husband was?"

Edward blinked, sure he'd missed something. "What are you—"

"I knew I wasn't in love with him. You _informed_ me that I married someone who was just a friend. You think I didn't know? He was my _best_ friend," she shouted. "Who the fuck do you think you are telling me it wasn't good enough? As though the love I had for him was less because it wasn't romantic love?"

Again, Edward could only stare. "I…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "But why would you want that?"

She laughed and shook her head, turning her back to him again and pacing a few steps away. "Yeah, sure. Everyone's supposed to want that, right? The in-love kind of love." She scoffed, as if disgusted. "I never understood what was so fucking great about love. It's violent. It's all extremes. You want to talk about the incredible highs, but you forget about the devastating lows."

Turning again, she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring but not at him. Not at anything. "That kind of love takes over your head. People do things when they're in love that make no sense. Insane things. Things that are against their best interest, their future happiness, their growth as human beings. You name it, and I know you've seen it. And for what? Sure, maybe you make it, but just as often, you prove that there's nothing magical about love. There's nothing magical about passion. Nothing that promises it will make your life better in the long run instead of just distracting you at best, totally derailing you at worst. People die because they fell in love."

She shook her head. "I'm a scientist. I like order and control. I like things that make sense. You think I wanted any of that? To be head over heels? To be out of my head? To sacrifice pieces of myself?

"And don't start with this bullshit that I'm jaded. I'm not fucking jaded. There's nothing wrong with compromising pieces of yourself for something that may or may not make you happy. There's nothing wrong with the hard work that goes into shaping love—which you and I both know is just a chemical reaction—into a relationship that works for both of you. But I have other things to do. Did you consider that?"

It was clear she didn't expect an answer. She ran a hand through her hair, pacing a few steps back and forth. "What I wanted was something soft and peaceful. My profession was always going to be the loudest thing in my life, the hardest thing. Why the hell would I want to add the complication of love to that? You think romantic love could have conquered what I was doing? Especially because I'm a woman. What do you think it would have done to whatever over-the-moon love you think I should want for me to be the work-a-holic? For me to be the primary bread winner? A lot of guys have a problem with that even though they're oh, so in love. You think I had time to navigate a relationship just because I fell in love with someone? I didn't want it. I never wanted it."

She took a shuddering breath, wrapping her arms around herself as she stopped her frantic motion and looked out the window. "Jake and I were exactly what I needed—soft and peaceful. We wanted the same things. He made me laugh, and he was proud of my accomplishments. It was nice. We had _fun_ in bed. None of this glimpse of heaven, over-the-top, making love bullshit. I didn't come home to an empty house. I was loved. I was supported, and I did the same for him. What the hell was so wrong about that? Why can't I want that?"

Edward had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat. Part of him still wanted to argue. Love was the greatest thing on the planet. People didn't write songs, poems, or books about brain surgery. Love was the only thing everyone in the world wanted; it was just that good. Didn't she realize that? It was incongruous to his view of the world that someone wouldn't think so.

Bella sighed, her tone gone soft as her shoulders drooped. "It's just so fucking tiring. To be so wrapped up in someone. To be so...aware every time he steps in the room. To hear his name louder than anything else when someone is talking about him. It's distracting, because you're too busy being awed of a person when you should be connecting the dots of what's important. Instead, you're just…"

It took a few moments for Edward to realize she'd gone silent. He'd been turning her words over in his head. He was missing something. He rewound them. Replayed them. Rewound. Replayed. Nonsensical words, really. Right?

Wrong.

It clicked then, like something falling into place in his head with a snug snick. He tried to tell himself he was delusional. This was just more arrogance, wasn't it? It had to be.

But no matter how many times he worked the equation, he only came up with one rational answer: Bella was in love with him.

His head snapped to the side to where she was standing. She was still faced away from him, but her shoulders were hunched. She pulled in quick, ragged breaths. A defensive posture because…

Because she knew she'd said too much. Enough for him to figure out. She was in love with him.

And she was really, _really_ pissed about it. She didn't want to be in love with anyone.

Because love was violent. Because it was distracting and illogical and it took up too much of her energy.

Because he'd let her husband slip away, destroying every chance she had of having a partner whom she could love simply and beautifully.

Fuck.

Edward stood. He didn't miss the way Bella flinched at the sound of the creak in the otherwise quiet room. He paused, but she didn't run. She didn't turn, but she didn't run. He took a soft step toward her. Then another. Then another. She still didn't run.

When he was standing at her side, she still didn't look at him. He searched for words, but he had none. Anyway, they always seemed to be the wrong ones.

Instead of speaking he put his arm around her, pulling her around slightly. She stiffened in his hold, like she was going to jerk away. When she didn't, he cupped her face. She shuddered, a full body shiver, and closed her eyes. He tilted her head up.

His kiss, then, was a sweet, gentle thing. It was a brush at first, asking permission. She whimpered—a tiny, barely there sound—but raised her mouth to meet his. He kissed her firmly but softly. A slow kiss, but a chaste one, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs as he did. And she responded to him, her lips working in small, sweet movements with his.

No violence. God, it was so good, this little kiss, that his heart broke.

When he pulled back, her eyes were open. There was a look on her face he'd never seen before—all wide, uncertain eyes. But a hint of tenderness too. Confusion, but want.

Yeah. He was confused too. His brain was all fuzzy again, but for much different reasons than it had been just a few minutes before. The energy between them was soft and easy. Nothing between them had ever been soft or easy.

She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, and stepped backward out of his embrace. His hands dropped to his sides. She stepped back another step and another. He wanted to grab her, like he always did, but for once, he managed to control himself.

Watching her walk away from him was always so hard.

When she was out of arm's reach, she opened her eyes again. She stared. He stared back.

She turned and was to the door in another heartbeat. She opened it, the sound way too quiet for the chaos reigning in Edward's head. She hesitated, and Edward waited.

He stood riveted, watching the door long after she'd left.

* * *

 **A/N: So….**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey, yous guise. How about some background?**

* * *

 _ **~Bella, Age 20~**_

Bella had texted Jake ahead of time. Therefore, when she came storming into apartment they'd moved into at the beginning of junior year, Jake had procured several bottles of wine from somewhere. Asshole always had the booze hookup. He'd also ordered take out Chinese. A good thing because Bella hadn't made it through her dinner date.

An hour later, the food had been consumed, they were down one bottle of wine, and Bella had gotten all her ranting out of her system. She and Jake were in the living room, both sprawled on the floor.

Bella sighed. "You know what the worst part is? This is such a lapse of judgment for me. I have a test tomorrow. I should have been studying. But no, I was out on a date. As though some random guy could ever be more important than school."

"Your A in BioChem isn't going anywhere. We both know that. But, agreed in theory. A lot of things are more important than stinky boys."

She snickered, and she knew that was the point. Jake could always make her smile.

"Can I ask you a question? Another one," Jake said quickly, cutting off her typical reply before she could fling it.

"You don't have to ask permission to ask me a question, dork."

Still, he hesitated a few moments before he spoke. "I thought you never wanted to be in love."

Now, it was Bella who hesitated. She stared up at the ceiling, remembering all the times they'd snickered to each other about the antics of people in love. It was like addiction, as far as Bella could tell. Addiction changed the physical wiring of the brain, rearranging, among other things, what took priority. It was why addicts so often let down or victimized their families. The priority center of their brains were compromised, making their addiction the most important thing.

To her, that was what love looked like. She saw people do ridiculous things, make ridiculous choices. Even at its best, it looked like it took up so much time and energy. She had other things to do, so many other things she was excited about. What, was she supposed to pick guys at random until something stuck? Who had time for that?

"I let Jessica get to me," Bella said to her best friend. "She painted this picture for me. Like maybe I'd be a brilliant surgeon, all the acclaim. Maybe I'd have more money than I knew what to do with. A big house. But, she made it sound so lonely, to come home to a house that was so empty it echoed. It was so dramatic."

"But?" Jake prompted when she didn't go on.

"But, all the love stuff aside, it would be nice to come home to someone. I wouldn't mind that part. Having someone who cares. I'm bad at making friends. It would be nice to have one person all my own."

She paused a beat and then scowled at the ceiling. "I hate that everyone talks about love like it's a foregone conclusion; like it's the end-all be-all that everyone should want. Yeah, whatever. It sounds great in a lot of ways, but so does climbing to the top of Mount Everest. That's exhilarating too, the idea of standing at the top. Can you imagine how that would feel? But I'm not going to invest the time, money, and lost toes to climb Everest. Why isn't love like that? Worth it, but hey, you can understand why it's not for everyone?"

Jake sat up and turned. She moved so her head was cradled in his lap. It was an old, comfortable position they were used to, and Bella felt herself calming down. She closed her eyes as he ran his fingers idly through her hair.

"Hey, Bella. I think we should get married."

Bella's breath left her in a gust. She froze, replaying the words over and over, certain she had to have heard wrong. Then, she sat up, looking over her shoulder at him, incredulous.

He chewed on his lower lip and held a hand out. "Just listen, okay?"

Still too shell shocked to speak, she turned around, sitting cross-legged and just staring at him. He huffed and giggled kind of maniacally, pushing his long hair over his ear. "So, confession. When we first met, I had the hugest crush on you. But it was kind of confusing, because I wanted you in that way because I was supposed to. You know, it was programming."

Bella rolled her eyes and waved a hand. Jake was a Sociology major. They'd had a fascinating conversation or two about gender roles. "You're supposed to want to fuck everything with boobs."

He blushed and nodded. "But I figured out at some point I wasn't into you like that." A dark look crossed his face. "Not like with Lizzie."

Lizzie the woman he'd dated for two years. She'd shattered his heart.

"But you know all the stuff people say about true love and the one?" Jake went on. "How sometimes, you just know? These people who get married three days after they met, because they just knew?

"I don't get why it can't be the same with friendship. The day I met you, I knew I was going to love you forever. That's just the way it was. I mean, hasn't it been great this year? Living together. Falling asleep on the couch."

The shock had worn off by then, and Bella could smile. He had that endearing puppy dog look on his face. "It feels like home," she admitted.

"Yeah." He reached out and tentatively took her hands in his. "So why not? It's more than a lot of people have."

Bella's heart was beating so fast. "You know you're stuck with me forever, but Jakey...I mean. Wouldn't you want to be…" Her cheeks flamed. "What about sex?"

At that, his lips turned up in a wicked grin. He waggled his eyebrows. "Do you think I'm hideous or something?"

Bella's cheeks got hotter. "I...No."

He studied her for a moment. Then, he tilted his head down, kissing her. She sucked in a breath in surprise, but realized, as he lingered, moving his lips with hers, that this wasn't awkward at all. It was comfortable and warm.

They straightened up, each of them watching the other. He darted his tongue over his lips, and she couldn't help but kiss him again.

Some hours later, after they confirmed that sex between good friends wouldn't be a problem, they lay together. She curled into his warmth, content and happy.

"Are you sure this isn't a reaction to Lizzie?" she asked, playing with his fingers. "Maybe you don't want a relationship now, but—"

"This is a relationship." He squeezed her to him. "You remember I told you about the Triangular Theory of Love from my Love and Families class? You have the three sides: passion, commitment, and intimacy. Friends like us are at the point of commitment and intimacy. That's where most marriages end up in the long run anyway. So it's like we just jumped to end game. That works. That's like... I don't even know. It sounds too dismissive to say it's one thing less to worry about, but that's what it is. I don't mind the idea of not thinking about it, especially if it means I get to keep what we have forever."

In the end, it was the easiest decision she'd ever made. Could she love, honor, and cherish her best friend for as long as they both should live? She could. It wasn't long after that she vowed that she would.

 _ **~Age 24~**_

The silence in the car on the drive home after dinner with Edward was stifling—awkward. It wasn't them, and Bella didn't like it. Jake had always been a chatterbox, yet now he stared out the window as she drove, his arms crossed.

As the minutes ticked by, Bella's irritation only climbed. She was beyond annoyed. Annoyed was what she'd been at the bar when he kept getting handsy with her. Annoyed was what she was when he seemed to be acting territorial. She'd seen the look in Edward's eyes. He'd noticed too. No, she was way past annoyed. She was quickly moving into the territory of pissed off.

"Why are you acting so weird tonight?" she finally demanded when she pulled up to a red light. She turned her head to glare, unable to keep control of her scowl.

Jacob glanced at her but then looked right back outside, resting his head on one hand and his elbow on the window. "I don't like your lab partner."

"No, really? I couldn't tell. You had machismo pouring out of your ears all night." She shook her head, letting out a breath and trying to find calm. "I know he can be an ass. You know I know that."

"Yeah, you've talked about him often enough."

The bitterness in Jake's voice caught her off guard. "Are you jealous?"

"No." He huffed and rolled his shoulders. "You know what, yeah. I'm jealous. I don't think you even realize how much you talk about him. Not even just since you've been taking this class. You've been talking about him since almost the first day of medical school."

"What, I can't vent to my husband now? He's infuriating, Jake. You know how I feel about him. He's frustrating. That's why I talk about him so much."

He whipped his head around to stare at her. "You talk about him so much because you're in love with him."

Bella's mouth fell open in shock. She stared at her husband until someone honked. She jumped, and quickly pressed the gas. "How drunk are you right now. I'm not—"

"It's okay, Bella." Jake's voice was soft then. He turned away again, looking out the window. "We both knew it was a possibility—one of us falling in love with someone else."

They'd talked about it at length before they married. Bella had pointed out then the possibility of falling in love with someone other than your significant other was always there. The love of poetry and countless works of fiction was painfully indiscriminate. You can't help who you loved. That was popular opinion. That whole _thing_ didn't stop just because you committed to one person.

In the end, they'd agreed the answer was simple. Just walk away. The life they had together was good. They could remove themselves from the situation and be done with the person who threatened to draw them into all the things they didn't want, into the uncertainty and absurdity that was passionate, romantic love.

"You can't do what we talked about," Jake said. "What are you going to do? Walk away from this school? Your class? You can't. He's here. You're here, and there's nothing either of us can do about that."

"All of which would be a good point if I was in love with him, which I'm not."

They fought. Despite the fact Jacob knew her better than anyone else in the world, Bella swore up and down that he was crazy. There was no way she was in love with her egotistical lab partner. Love was blind, but not so outrageous as to make her have feelings for a know-it-all who drove her crazy more often than not.

Then, a couple of months after Jacob's accusation, Edward Cullen kissed her. She kissed him back, if only for a moment, and the stars realigned.

 _ **~When Jacob Got Sick~**_

Dr. Snow and Dr. Cullen had stayed with them a long time, going over every possible surgical option and answering all of Bella's millions of questions. The whole time, Jake had sat silently, letting her do all the talking.

In the car on the way home, though, he had a lot to say. "You know I hate that guy, right?" He banged his head against the back of the car rest, agitated. "The last thing I want is Edward Cullen in my head."

That she had feelings for Edward Cullen wasn't something Bella could deny. They'd both long ago come to the conclusion that she had no control over her emotions, only her actions. Jacob was secure in the fact Bella would choose him. Bella found the whole situation aggravating. In her rational mind, there was so much about Edward she found annoying. He was insufferable at times. Brilliant, but grating because he knew it. And she hated the way he looked at her husband when they had to interact a handful of times at gatherings both she and Edward were invited to. His words were always courteous, but there was that look in his eyes that said he thought was better than Jacob in every way.

So, Bella could understand just how deep an injustice this was for Jake. It was a blow to his pride for Edward to be the one to see him sick and therefore vulnerable. For him to be the one who could take credit for helping Jake stung.

"I know this sucks, Jake, but I wouldn't trust you with anyone else. Dr. Snow and Dr. Cullen are the best in the field."

"You're the best."

Bella's lip twitched. "True, but I'm also ethically bound."

A few quiet moments went by before Jake spoke again. "You're still in love with him."

Bella let out a sigh. "Jake…"

"You were leaning."

"I wasn't leaning."

"Yeah, you were. There was a bit there where you both forgot the other doctor and I were in the room. You were bantering. And leaning into each other."

"I was debating and challenging. It got heated."

"You were smiling."

Bella frowned and rubbed a frustrated hand over her face. She reminded herself that Jake was scared and pissed at the world. "It doesn't matter."

"Yeah," Jake grumbled, getting out of the car the instant she pulled to a stop in their driveway.

Bella lingered a minute, resting her head on the steering wheel. "If I could turn it off, I would," she muttered.

It was so disconcerting. There was so much about the man that irritated her, yet she'd picked up on the same things Jake had. She'd fired questions at Edward at a rapid pace, and he'd volleyed each one with a composed, even voice. But there had been this glint in his eyes that said he found some satisfaction in being able to answer each one of her increasingly difficult, nit-picking questions. Toward the end, the tiniest of smiles had appeared at the corner of his mouth as he quirked an eyebrow, giving her a look that called her on her attempt to stump him.

Heaven help her, she'd smiled back. And yes, they were leaning. Edward Cullen was insufferable, but he was damn good too. She hated the fact that, sometimes, it annoyed her so much she was actually charmed by it. She hated the fact that, in all the years since they'd shared that class together, her breath still caught when he entered a room. She hated that she liked to listen to him—at least when it wasn't her he was arguing with—and frequently found herself smirking when he quickly and cleanly defeated his opponent in any verbal spar.

She hated how goddamned fascinating she found that man.

More than anything, Bella hated that no matter how many times she listed his faults and all the reasons why she didn't even _like_ him, fuck you very much, her subconscious wouldn't listen. He invaded her thoughts, her senses. She'd long ago memorized the way his lips quirked and the shape of his gorgeous green eyes. He looked at her often, across crowded rooms. Every time he did, she shivered, feeling the phantom touch of his hand on her back and that silky voice rumbling low in her ear.

 _You don't know what you're missing_ _,_ his eyes said. As much as that thought made her furious, it also made her want.

She was happy in her life with Jacob. Fulfilled and adored. Jake cheered her victories with her, always so proud of her. It was a good life. But still, Edward was always there—an itch that never really went away.

But, she was a doctor. She knew better than to scratch an itch. Life wasn't supposed to be easy, and not everything made sense. That's all there was to it.

Calmer, Bella went inside. Almost as soon as she got in the door, Jacob enveloped her in his warm embrace. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a jealous ass."

"You have a right." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Hey, listen. I wanted you to know I've been thinking about it. When I'm done with my residency, I'm going to apply somewhere else. The east coast, or hell, even a different country. We should talk about it."

Jacob froze. He pulled back and looked at her. "This is where you want to be. You want to get on that team, don't you? The one you always talk about."

"Compromise isn't a bad thing. I—"

But Jake was already shaking his head. "The only time I want to hear about you thinking of moving us anywhere is because you've got a better offer at some other hospital on some other team. If it's about work, we can talk. If it's about running away just because I can't fucking stand the thought of that prick being in the same room as you, let alone rooting inside my head…" Jake huffed out a breath and calmed himself, ungritting his teeth. "We're grown-ups. I'll be fine."

She hugged him tightly. "Yeah. You will be."

 _ **~Now~**_

Bella got home from LA early on a Monday morning. She trudged up her steps, more tired than she could remember being in a long, long time. Once inside, she only had enough energy to lean up against the door with her eyes closed against the sudden sting.

After Jake died, Bella's feelings for Edward didn't change so much as they got overshadowed by her tempestuous rage. It figured. It just fucking figured. For so many years, she'd had the vindictive desire to see Edward fail for once in his life. Why did it have to be Jake? Why couldn't it have been an embarrassing sex scandal? The fascination didn't fade. The maddening awareness of his presence didn't fade, but the bitter taste in her mouth whenever his name came up created a Pavlovian-style aversion to him.

Wasn't this everything she hadn't wanted? She'd gotten into this whole mess determined to make the best decision for her professional career and personal life. Jake had been right, hadn't he? Why should she make decisions based on her feelings, good, bad, or indifferent, for one man? Why should she let him have that much power over her?

But some weeks into this latest project in her life, Bella wondered just how big a mistake she'd made agreeing to do this, to be in such proximity with Edward. They'd been together only a few days, really. Hours at a time, and yet everything had changed.

Alone in her too quiet house, Bella replayed the tenderness of his touch. That kiss. It had been unlike anything Bella had ever experienced. A beautiful kiss. She hadn't known a kiss could be beautiful. Awesome in the original sense of the term—all grandeur and intense emotion.

She'd always known Edward wanted her, but she'd figured it was just another sense of entitlement. Edward was the kind of person who'd always gotten what he wanted without much effort. She was a novelty—the one woman who hadn't fallen to his feet in a puddle of pliant womanhood. And while she'd never give herself to him completely, she had offered him what she thought he wanted.

The grabby bastard hadn't been able to keep his hands to himself the whole time. He knew. He knew damn well she didn't want him to kiss her, or at least she didn't want to want it, and he'd done it anyway. Asshole. Fucking prick. She had every right to hate him, for so many things, but least of all his unwanted advances. She wouldn't deny she'd wanted to kiss him. She wanted to do so much more than kiss him, but she'd controlled herself like a big girl. He had all the impulse control of a toddler, and there was no excuse.

And yet, when she'd finally given in to him, finally given in to her thirst, the insatiable need to know what it felt like to have all of him, to breath him in, he'd backed off.

You'd hate me, he said as though the very idea of it was too painful to contemplate. And then, he'd kissed her with a reverence she felt at the center of her soul.

The next day and this morning at the airport, he'd hardly said a word to her. He'd said only enough to do his job and given her space. She should have been relieved. Instead, she was bereft. There was a hole in her heart, so much different than the one Jake had left behind. That wound, though it would always be tender, was healing nicely. This wound, fresh and ragged around the edges, was exactly what she hadn't wanted.

Edward had consumed her life, taken first place in her thoughts, and driven too many of her actions. For moments, when he'd kissed her, she would have sworn she'd tasted heaven, and when he pulled away, let her go, she'd plummeted. Now, she had no idea what she was feeling from one moment to the next. It hurt. It hurt so much. Rejection, desire, _need_ _,_ confusion, offense, frustration, loneliness and wretched helplessness. Worst of all, none of it made any goddamned sense. She didn't even want this. She didn't want him.

But that wasn't true. Her heart ached for him. It _cried_ for him, even as her head yelled, no, no, no, no. She was fine. She was an accomplished woman who had done incredible things. She had her whole life ahead of her to do anything and everything she wanted, and she didn't want to be in love. And, her brain tried to reason, even if love had fallen into her lap, what did that matter when the object of her misguided affections was none other than Edward Cullen? He drove her crazy. Didn't her heart realize that?

Her heart didn't care. It wanted Edward. It called his name with every beat—a shout that was getting increasingly hard to ignore.

What the hell she was supposed to do with any of this, Bella had no idea.

* * *

 **A/N: She's a bit conflicted...**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you for your patience! Let's get on with it.**

* * *

Santiago sat across from him, staring with a strange look on his face. Edward's skin crawled, and he squirmed in his seat. He huffed and set down his beer. "Would you stop looking at me like that? Laugh at me if you're going to laugh at me, but don't look at me like that. It's making me feel like you finally realized you lost your chance with me."

"Hah." Santiago shook his head. "Like I want a piece of that pie." He jabbed a finger in Edward's direction. "This whole story between you and this woman? This is soap opera. She's going to end up being your sister; I can feel it. Your father had some torrid affair, and both his children got his brilliant, surgeon's mind."

Edward rolled his eyes. "She's not my sister."

"Well, at least you have that going for you."

A few beats passed in silence between them before Edward chuckled. "What's so funny?" Santiago asked.

"I'm just laughing at myself. I'm actually waiting for you to tell me I'm being an idiot. Or selfish. Or entitled. Or pushy."

"You're all of those things."

Edward arched an eyebrow. "But?"

Santiago leaned back in his chair, considering Edward over a long pull from his beer. "But, this thing is has lasted well over a decade. It's driving _me_ so crazy that it's not even funny anymore. You have to do something."

"This is what I've been trying to say, and I get told I think I know what's best for everyone."

There it was. That was what made Santiago laugh at him. His friend grinned wide as he chuckled and shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you? Edward, you and this woman had the exact same problem. She, being an adult more than capable of taking care of herself, decided she was going to simply live with the unbearable agony of being in love with you. You, however, are the kind of kid who always picked at your scabs. I'll give you credit for leaving her alone after her husband died on your table, but the second she was within reach, you were on her like a tick on a dog. Now, the scab's been ripped open, and blood is gushing everywhere, so of course you have to deal with it."

Edward grimaced. "Thank you for that beautiful image."

Santiago looked way too amused with himself. "There's nothing beautiful about this, my man. Your Bella was right about a lot of things. People rhapsodize about the glory of love and all that and conveniently forget about the ugly. When you give someone that kind of importance in your life, a little ugliness is inevitable. A lot of ugliness shouldn't be as unexpected as it is. Love ain't as magical as fiction would lead us to believe. This whole thing going on between the two of you, because you're head-over-heels in love with each other, isn't pretty."

His expression softened, and he looked contemplative. "You're a pushy asshole. There's no two ways about that. But she's no innocent princess, and you're right about one thing, Eddo. She never has told you no. She's never told you to your face to fuck off, even if her actions seem to speak louder than her words. You dragged her off the edge of a cliff, but now that you're in a free fall…" He shrugged. "Maybe you can get to the pretty stuff. Maybe this is the last thing Bella wanted—to be in love—but all of us have been dragged down roads we didn't intend to travel, and good things happen because we were forced down that road."

He shook his head, waving his hand around. "This is getting too navel-gazey for me. Bottom line? The Beatles were full of shit, my friend. Love isn't all you need. But, at this point, it at least warrants a conversation."

 _ **~0~**_

Edward was just as much of a scientist as Bella. He liked rationality and order. He liked the fact that, most of the time, the human body worked exactly as it was programmed to do.

But Edward was also fond of a quote by Douglas Adams. "...a scientist must also be absolutely like a child. If he sees a thing, he must say that he sees it, whether it was what he thought he was going to see or not. See first, think later, then test. But always see first. Otherwise you will only see what you were expecting."

He couldn't ignore the presence of mysticism in his life. Like any doctor, he'd had his share of patients with stories he couldn't quite explain.

And love. The one thing about love people seemed to agree on was that it couldn't be helped. Love was blind. Love wasn't a choice. People fell in love with the wrong person all the time. Criminals. Abusers. Hell, even Hitler had found someone to marry him.

Edward was in love with Bella. To him, it was the most obvious thing in the world to want to see that through, wherever it ended. A chance. All he wanted was a chance. And maybe that was stupid, given the circumstances. But it wasn't as though he had anything to lose. On the contrary, if he didn't settle this _thing_ between them, he was pretty sure he was going to lose his mind.

He supposed, at his core, he was a romantic. He believed in fate and soul mates.

He believed there had to be a reason why, as he was roaming downtown on a random street on a random afternoon, he spotted none other than the object of his affection sitting in front of a coffee house alone. He believed there had to be a reason that, when he spotted her, he just happened to be standing next to a flower shop. Someone was trying to tell him something, even if it didn't quite make any sense.

Not giving himself a chance to think too hard, Edward did a quick tour around the florist's. He chose a single stargazer-lily, because it was big and ostentatious but not as cliche as a rose. Guaranteed Bella wasn't the type of woman to be impressed by flowers anyway. He just wanted to catch her off guard.

Flower in hand, Edward crossed the street. Luckily, Bella was engrossed in her reading. She cut a pretty picture, with a pair of dark glasses perched on the tip of her nose, her lips pursed in reaction to whatever she was reading. Not a medical thing, judging by the size of the book. Fiction then.

"Reading something risque in public, Bella?" he asked, dropping into the seat across from her.

She jumped, making a strangled yelping noise as she dropped the book on the table. Her eyes went wide and then narrowed in a look he was intimately familiar with. Just as she opened her mouth, he proffered her the flower. "Just for the record, I'm not stalking you."

Her gaze darted around. Checking that no one had heard him, no doubt. Edward continued while he had the upper hand in the conversation. "I saw you completely by chance and decided to come say hello." He had to give the inside of his cheek a sharp bite to keep from laughing. She was staring at him now like he had grown a second head, which he supposed was a rational reaction. They hadn't really interacted since he'd kissed her—soft and sweet—in his hotel room about five days before. "I come bearing gifts." He shook the lily invitingly. "Well. Gift. Singular."

The look in her eyes had turned cautious. She looked quickly at the lily and back to him as though she was afraid if she took her eyes off him, he'd attack. "You're not stalking me?"

He set the lily down in front of her and folded his arms on the table. "I've never lied to you. I don't see a reason to start now."

"And you had a flower just by chance."

"No." His lip twitched. "When I saw you, I went into that flower shop." He pointed across the way.

"And you bought it for me."

"Yep."

She arched an eyebrow, her expression comically dubious. "Because?"

Edward took a deep breath. Here went nothing. "Because it's the kind of thing a guy does when he wants a woman to say yes to a date."

Silence fell down between them like an anvil. He swore she'd stopped breathing. Hell, he wasn't sure he was breathing. It was all he could do to keep the serene smile on his face.

"You're fucking with me," she said after an age.

He bit the inside of his cheek. Why he found the fury on her face so amusing he had no idea. He knew he couldn't smile. She'd kill him. "I'm not fucking with you. Well. At least not unless the date goes really well."

To his immense satisfaction, Bella turned scarlet. She scowled at him, rubbing the back of her neck. "A date," she muttered under her breath.

And, true to form, she hadn't said no. "I know you understand the concept. You went on more than one date with Benjamin." He worked very hard not to clench his teeth at the name.

Her eyes narrowed again, any remaining shock disappearing. "Benjamin is charming."

"So am I."

She scoffed. Again, Edward had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. Instead, he tilted his head, locking gazes with her as he leaned forward with his arms on the table. She sucked in a breath, looking a little stunned as he got closer. "Believe me, Bella. On a date, I'm very charming."

She narrowed her eyes, but before she could snap back at him, he sat up straight and continued talking. "I'm in love with you. You think I haven't tried to shake it?" He gave a wry huff, ducking his head. "I can't shake what I feel any more than you can. It hasn't gone away in all these years. It didn't go away even when you had every reason to hate me. It's not what you want. And, you know, it'd be a lot better for my self-esteem if the women I asked out were actually enthusiastic or at least a little intrigued." He gave a faux-dramatic sigh. "If we're both going to go through the torture of being in love with each other, don't you think we should be able to enjoy the perks?"

"What perks?"

"What were the perks of going out with Benjamin?"

Her features twisted, but before she could yell at him, he held up his hands. "Sorry. Let me try that again." He'd been doing well, he thought. _Regroup, Cullen_. "What are the perks of a date? Since I'm the one asking, I get to work my ass off trying to impress you. You look fantastic in a dress."

"Now you're telling me how I have to dress?" She crossed her arms over her chest, but her look wasn't as severe as it could have been.

He flashed her a disarming grin. "Wear old jeans. You'll look fantastic regardless."

Her cheeks tinged pink, and he took it as a good sign that she didn't immediately argue. "I know romance isn't your thing, Bella, but it's not exactly torture. Let me take you out. I'll show you a good time. Something fun." He tilted his head. "I'll treat you like a queen, if you'll let me. With respect, regardless. This would be a real first date. I won't assume anything. I know I've been, ah… handsy."

She scoffed. "Handsy? Is that what you're calling it?" Again, her words weren't furious. She seemed, if anything, wary. Vulnerable. But her body language wasn't closed. Her hands were up on the table, cradling a cup of coffee. She was more than capable of getting up and storming away, but she hadn't.

He pressed his lips together, considering his words carefully. "You said this thing between us makes you tired. I get that. It's intense. Different than anything I've felt for another person, and I've rarely handled that in anything approaching the right way." He ducked his head, catching her gaze again. "I'm sorry. For grabbing you. For chasing you." He grimaced. Saying those words out loud really did sound horrible. "For kissing you when I knew damn well it wasn't what you wanted. I'm not offering you excuses. What I'm saying is that if you do consider what I'm asking, I'm not going to push you. I can be a gentleman."

She studied him, searching his eyes. "You really want this. After everything." It wasn't a question.

He smiled and folded his hands on the table, close to her but not touching—a moment of almost-intimacy. "My father always taught me to do the best I could with the hand I was dealt." He pretended to sigh, looking her over with mock-gravity. "Even if it's a terrible hand."

She laughed. It was a choked sound, but her eyes sparked as she shook her head. "You're awful."

"I'm an arrogant ass. You're a vicious, though brilliant harpy. We already know these things about each other, and that's a perk too. We can only go up from here." He flashed his largest grin and waggled his eyebrows.

Then, he put on a more serious face. "We make as much sense as we don't make any sense. It's like a fifty-fifty split. All the things you said about how hard it would be to find someone compatible with you? I am. We're in the same profession, at the same level, so you won't make more money than me. I'm more than familiar with the work you do, so I can't hold that against you. I admire the hell out of you, Bella. Believe it or not, I always have.

"You said that love is a distraction, and it's destructive. And it makes you do crazy things. You're right, but we've been dealing with all of that already, without the—"

"Perks?" she offered, a tiny smile playing at the edge of her mouth.

"It makes sense. Tell me it doesn't."

She bit her bottom lip to cover the smile that was threatening to grow wider and stared at him, shaking her head. "You're trying to logic me into a relationship."

"Into a date. Just a date." He reached a single finger out, tapping her knuckle twice before pulling back. "Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe a date with me would be tantamount to ritual torture."

"There you go again. Full of self-importance as usual." She was clearly teasing this time. "A date with you is maybe slight torture. A little bit of torture."

"Just the tip?"

She rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised they didn't fall out of her head. But then, she took a deep breath. Her eyes were on the table, focused on the tiny space between their fingers. She laughed without humor. "This is fucking surreal."

"A little," he agreed.

She took another deep breath and her eyes flicked up to his. "Okay," she said, more timid than he'd ever heard her.

His heartbeat picked up speed, and he felt a giddy rush like he was some fucking school boy. "Yeah?"

"I was looking for alternatives to murdering you anyway. Though you might just be making it easier for me."

"A date where my survival isn't guaranteed? Sounds like fun."

She shook her head, but she smiled. "Get out of my face, Cullen, before I come to my senses."

He stood up. She tilted her head up, her eyes still on him, and he had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Just a little kiss. Innocent and slow.

Instead, he started moving. He risked a glance back when he was halfway down the block, just in time to see her lift the lily to her nose. He let himself grin like a fool as he walked away with a new jaunt in his step.

What a weird life.

* * *

 **A/N: Will this work? O.o**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey, kiddos! I didn't get as far as I wanted to, but it's still a good time, I think. The good news is, I know exactly what happens next!**

* * *

The blaring alarm dragged Bella from a restless sleep. She groaned, confused. Was she supposed to be awake? With another groan, she flopped over onto her belly, burying her head in her fluffy pillow.

Then, she raised her head with a gasp.

She'd been dreaming about Edward. Not even a sex dream. Day-dreamy, silly, sappy dreaming.

Dreaming of that painfully sweet kiss and what a date with Edward Cullen might look like.

Bella got up, muttering under her breath about what a silly little school girl she was being. She hopped in the in the shower, humming "Wash that Man Right Out of My Hair" in a somewhat maniacal hum.

It had been a hell of a week. It had been seven whole days since Edward had surprised her. Despite her utterly insane schedule—surgery, patients, consults, paperwork, and more paperwork—she'd thought about Edward way too much.

With their busy schedules, Edward had sent her a simple text saying they would connect in Arizona. She was more than a little irritated that she checked her phone a few times too often, wondering if he would text her again.

What the hell was her life right now?

Dressed, Bella, in a rush by that point, put an oh-so-healthy breakfast of a frozen Eggo waffle in the toaster. As soon as it popped out, she grabbed it, grabbed her suitcase in her other hand, and headed for the door.

Bella opened her front door and yelped, instantly jumping back and dropping her bag and Eggo to the floor. On her stoop, Edward winced. "Ah. Sorry. Let me—" He'd moved to step forward over the threshold but quickly pulled back. "Sorry. Uh. I shouldn't come in unless you invite me, and you probably don't want to do that. But, this isn't what it looks like."

She stared at him. "You mean you're not creeping outside my door?"

"Exactly. This isn't that." He furrowed his brow, huffed, and held out a covered to-go cup of what was likely coffee. "I came to bring you this, and to offer you a ride to the airport." He gestured with his head at the car parked on the street.

"You brought me coffee?" Between near exhaustion and the surreal fact she'd been thinking about Edward all morning and here he was, she didn't quite know how to react. She didn't know how she felt about him being here in her private space for the first time ever. Her home had always been the one refuge, the one place she would never, ever have to see him.

He cocked his head just slightly, his eyes searching hers. "It's just how you like it. I promise."

In spite of herself, her lip twitched. "How do I like it."

He bit his bottom lip, his eyes dancing with mischief, and she felt her cheeks heat. "The coffee, Edward. How do I like my coffee?"

"Just like your soul. Black and bitter with just one packet of sweetness."

She couldn't even help it. She smiled. "You're a horrible person," she said as she took the coffee. "How did you even know my address?"

"Uh." His smirk fell. "Mom had it from when she sent you the forms. I wanted to surprise you, but now I see that was probably an invasion of privacy."

Bella had to press her lips together tightly to keep from smiling. She should have been annoyed, but he'd figured that part out without her having to tell him. Plus, the way he was looking at her right now, with a knitted brow and a hounddog expression, she thought she would give him a break. "Creeper," she said, gently teasing.

They both stared at each other a beat, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Bella shivered. It felt weird. She'd been irritated at the amount of space this man took up in her mind all week. She'd expected seeing him would only exacerbate the problem. But, in this context with his slightly bungled attempt to do something nice for her, she was more relieved than anything.

This moment with him, one not fraught with conflict and anger, was the first deep breath she'd taken in years.

"Is it okay for me to take you?" he asked, voice soft. "I know you hate leaving your car at the airport."

"And how do you know that?" she asked, resigned but bemused.

"Uh." His cheeks tinted pink and he laughed. "Christ, nothing sounds good. Look, I swear I've never stalked you. We're just in the same place so often—"

"You overheard me say it to someone else."

He nodded.

She breathed in through her nose, her head spinning a bit with some kind of weird elation. "You like your coffee with cream and sugar," she said in a rush. "And it's the thing you hate most about our profession—how often you have to drink your coffee jet black out of necessity. It doesn't matter how often you have it; you've never acquired a taste."

He grinned. Not his usual arrogant smile, but a grin that looked giddy, if anything. "Who's stalking who, huh?"

She sighed, swallowing back the bittersweet taste in her mouth. She was always so aware of him whenever he was in the same space as she was. If she were in a crowded room, surrounded by people having a hundred different conversations, it was a guarantee she'd hear clearly when someone spoke his name. Her attention was pulled, like a highlighter on a page. So, yes, she knew more about Edward than she wanted.

But, there was some solace in the idea he was just as aware of her as she was of him.

"Come on, creeper. We're going to be late," she said. As they walked down her driveway, Bella was glad she had her hands full. She had an itch to twirl the lock of hair just behind her ear—a nervous habit of hers. And, she was unreasonably thrilled at her own use of the word "we".

Ridiculous.

 _ **~0~**_

Throughout the ride to the airport and their wait in line, Edward refused to tell her what he had planned except to say it was casual. She refused to admit to herself that it had taken her three times as long as usual to pack for this particular trip. She hadn't thought twice about what she brought for her dates with Benjamin, but Edward? Apparently, he was a whole different story.

Though she tried to ignore it, when they passed the row of duty-free shops Bella got an itch under her skin to go shopping. That almost never happened to her, but she saw a scarf she thought might put together her outfit for that night nicely. She told herself she really just wanted an excuse not to have to sit next to Edward at the boarding gate and make more semi-awkward chatter. She didn't know how to talk—just talk—to him yet. She didn't know how not to be defensive around him. Hell, she didn't know why she was even _trying_ not to be defensive.

No. That wasn't true. There was a part of her that wanted this asshole to like her. It was absurd. Before Jacob, she'd only been tangentially concerned with how she looked or if her hair was cute when she went on a date. After Jacob, when her experience with men had just been a quick, casual encounter here and there, she didn't think twice about what the man she was with thought about her. People could either like her or not; it was their prerogative.

Bella stopped arranging the scarf around her neck and glared at herself in the shop's tiny mirror. This was all driving her crazy. All of it. Everything about him and who she became when he was around.

If nothing else, this whole, weird, date thing had to bring some kind of resolution.

And maybe wanting him to like her wasn't such a bad thing.

 _ **~0~**_

It had been a long day at a particularly difficult school. Edward had offered to postpone their date.

"Why are you being _so_ nice?" Bella asked, bemused.

He'd flashed that bastard grin, that mischievous one that made her stomach tingle and a thrill of lightning pass straight out to her fingertips. "I'm trying to impress a beautiful woman, remember? That's the whole point of dating. You put on this image of the person you think they want. Someone nice, considerate, and sweet. All so the object of your affection likes you."

"Too bad I already know you."

"I'm a lot of things, Bella, and not all of them nice, but my parents did instill a little common courtesy. It's been a hell of a day."

"If I can make it through a twenty-six hour surgery, I can make it through a date with you."

"Well, as long as I'm as intriguing as a trigeminal neuralgia."

"To a neurosurgeon."

"Good point."

It had been about an hour since that conversation, and Bella was nearly done getting ready. She was just putting the final touches on her makeup when there was a knock at the door.

"You're early," she said as she opened the door. "I—" Her eyes went wide as she found not Edward but Benjamin outside her door.

His eyes swept her up and down. She took a step back, slightly self-conscious. He flashed her that super-star grin. "Well, I came to see if I could entertain you this evening." Held up the bottle of Gentleman Jack he had in his hand. "You've been a hard woman to pin down lately."

Bella flushed. Benjamin had texted her during the week and few days between visits just as he had before. He had been understanding about her short replies, understanding her professional life was intense, especially since she'd been gone for a few days.

In reality, Bella hadn't known how to handle the Benjamin thing. It wasn't as though they'd been dating in the first place. And she chafed at the idea Edward had any kind of claim on her—as though she had to put an end to Benjamin's mild flirtation because she agreed to a date.

"So, you're going out?" Benjamin asked. "Did you meet an Arizonian more handsome than me?"

"I just don't think that's humanly possible," Bella said, playing along.

"Then who—" His attention was drawn by the sound of whistling from the elevator well. Of course, Edward strolled around the corner whistling a cheerful tune that cut off as he stopped short at the sight of Benjamin. He was obviously dressed up just a bit—tight black jeans, a slick shirt, and his hair tousled just so. "Ah, I see."

Bella stood up straighter, feeling guilty for no good reason. She darted her eyes between Benjamin and Edward. Benjamin looked amused. Edward's face was unreadable, but his eyes were definitely pinched. She folded her arms across her chest.

"Some other time then," Benjamin said with a wink.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said with a small smile.

Benjamin readjusted his grip on the bottle and strolled down the hallway just as Edward started walking again. His eyes were cautious, flitting between Benjamin and Bella.

"Have her back at a decent hour," Benjamin teased Edward as he passed. "It's a school night."

Edward arched an eyebrow. "Sure," he said wryly, and with a slight shake of his head, he continued down the hallway toward her.

"I didn't know he was coming over," Bella blurted.

"I didn't say anything."

"And anyway, you don't have any say in who I see."

His lip twitched. "I didn't say anything."

"This is what I hated about dating. It's so much damn drama."

"Bella."

She huffed out a breath. "You didn't say anything," she said, her rational mind catching up with her rambling. She rubbed her palms on the sides of her skirt. "I don't do this. I don't know the rules."

"There are no—"

"There are rules. That's why I have makeup on, and I'm wearing what I'm wearing, and that's why you smell so goddamned good right now."

He pursed his lips, obviously trying not to laugh at her. She scowled. "The one time I need you to tell me what to do."

"You're pretty much living up to my expectations, so I'd say you're doing fine."

She cocked her head. "What expectations?"

"I brought you something." He brought his hand out from behind his back.

"What expectations?"

"I figured you wouldn't be impressed with flowers, and we are in the desert, so it's a cactus."

It was. A small but surprisingly pretty bowl of succulents including a tiny cactus with a tinier, red flower on it. She was distracted for half a beat, but then she returned her glare to him. "What expectations did you have?"

He smirked. "I've been here for about a minute and a half, and you've started two arguments with me."

"I didn't argue. There was no argument."

"There could have been if I'd engaged."

Bella had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Then who's arguing?"

He laughed. Well, she was glad one of them was having fun.

"Bella, we've had an antagonistic relationship since we were barely more than kids. I expect you to give me shit. You're probably giving me a hard time because you're expecting me to be an asshole. You know why?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"Because you're a hard ass, and I'm an asshole." His smile gentled into something more serious. "It's me. It's forty-two different kinds of weird, messed up, and awkward."

"Wow. This sounds like such a good idea." Bella didn't like the twist-twist her heart was doing.

He ducked his head, catching her eyes. "It's the least romantic romance I can possibly imagine." He reached out, brushing his fingertips down the inside of her arm in a soft, quick gesture. "I wouldn't trade it."

Her lips quirked up. "This is confusing," she admitted in a quiet voice.

"I know." He proffered her the bowl in his hand. "Take the cactus, Bella, and then, just be you. For reasons that defy understanding, I like you."

She laughed. She had to. This was absurd. She took the bowl. "They're lovely."

"So are you." He waggled his eyebrows. "And, apparently, I smell good."

Now, she did roll her eyes, but she had to smile. He really did smell so good. "Let me just put this down." She ducked inside, setting the succulents on the bathroom counter. "So, now I have to figure out how to get a cactus home," she said as she came back out in the hallway. "How typical of you to be a pain in my ass," she teased.

"I know. Being in love with me is such a horrible experience." He gestured with his head toward the elevators. "Let's make the best of it, shall we?"

* * *

 **A/N: Date continues next chap. Promise.**

 **So! How goes?**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Shorty chapter but the next one should be...interesting. Hehehe.**

* * *

The drive seemed to be going well. A tiny bit awkward, but it was that endearing kind of awkward. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw her glance at him several times.

"So wherever we're going, we needed a car," Bella said.

His lip twitched. She was going out of her mind with curiosity and trying not to show it. "A car is a necessity in this case."

"Are we going to the car wash? I really like it when it has the tri-color soap."

He banged his fist on the steering wheel. "Wait. Are you trying to tell me that, after all I've gone through to impress you, it turns out you're actually easy?"

"The things you don't know about me could fill an ark."

"A vessel of mythical proportions, impossible to fill in real life?" He glanced over at her and winked. "Challenge accepted."

She turned her head toward the window. Too bad for her he could see in the reflection that she was hiding a small smile.

"So, what's your favorite color?" he asked.

Her head snapped back. "What?"

"Your favorite color."

"Why?"

"Small talk, Bella. Filling the ark."

"With my favorite color?"

"It's important information to have."

"Why?"

"Because if you choose green, I'll know it's because you can't stop staring at my eyes." He turned to bat his eyelashes at her.

"Watch the road," she yelped, jumping in her seat. "My favorite color is brown, for fuck's sake."

" _Brown_?"

"Oh, here we go."

Pulling up at a stoplight, he looked at her, holding her gaze. "I like brown," he said.

Her eyes went wide, and her breath caught. He turned his eyes back to the road, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

"We're here," he said a few minutes later.

As they pulled in and Edward paid, Bella was completely silent. It was ridiculous, but his heart was pounding out of control. He was nervous. This date was going to be a disaster. How could it not be?

Sure enough, the moment they drove away from the ticket desk, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You're patronizing me."

He laughed. He couldn't help it. "This I have to hear."

"I'm a woman, so I have to like old, sappy romances, right?"

The chuckling got worse. He shook his head as he pulled into a spot. "Have you ever considered the fact not everything is about you?"

For just a second, he'd obviously caught her off guard. The look of confused uncertainty that flashed across her features was immensely satisfying given that he knew damn well she'd bounce right back.

And, sure enough. "This is a date. You said yourself the whole point was to impress me, so how can this _not_ be about me?"

He had to press his lips into a thin line to keep from laughing again. He turned in his seat to face her, thinking she looked lovely even when she was glaring at him. "Real talk, what are the odds anything I did would impress you? So I chose a drive-in movie for two reasons." He stretched his arm so it was draped across the back of her seat as he leaned closer to her. "The first should be obvious. You know how these things work, right? You climb into the backseat, for comfort, and if the movie is too boring…" He waggled his eyebrows.

Her eyes darted down to his lips, and hell if that didn't send lightning down his spine. "You think we're going to make out?"

"Only if we get bored, I said."

"Uh huh." Her eyes lingered on his lips another second before she looked up again. "And the second reason?"

He pursed his lips. This whole thing wasn't easy for him either. It went against every instinct he had to give this woman something as personal as he was about to. He sighed. "So, I'm the youngest of three children. All of us are brilliant."

"And modest."

"No. Not a one of us. How could we be?" He sighed. "We were raised that way—to know we were smart and great things were expected of us. Don't get me wrong. I saw and did amazing things. I don't lament my childhood or anything dramatic like that. It was good, but..."

Bella's look was curious as she studied him. "It sounds intense," she said, and he didn't think she was being derisive.

"It could be. So, I hit my teens, and things got angsty."

"No kidding."

"Right. I'm the typical angry teen, and I was going, going, going. All the time. So many activities. My father was, of course, my father—an important doctor, so he wasn't around as much. My mother's second full-time job was activities director for us little darlings. And I had no idea how to talk to her like a human being anymore."

"Because of the angry teen thing?"

"Exactly. But on Sundays, she would take the morning off to relax with a sangria and an old movie."

Bella stared at him, the smallest smile playing at her lips. "And you watched with her," she finished.

"Yep."

"And you wanted to share that with me."

"Yeah."

She stared a couple of beats longer, and then ducked her head. "Dammit," she murmured under her breath.

"What?" he asked.

Raising her head, she full on grinned at him. "I hate when you're right."

"What am I right about?"

"You really can be charming when you want to be."

Smiling, he finally gave in to the urge he'd had all night. He reached over and took her hand. Wordlessly, keeping his eyes on hers, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a long kiss there. Her expression, her body language, went soft, and she was still smiling at him.

"I'm going to get us food," he said, giving her hand one more squeeze before he let go. "Hamburgers okay?"

"Only if there are also milkshakes. Oh, and popcorn."

"You're high maintenance after all."

He got back with their food just as the movie started. They reclined the front seats so they had an unobstructed view from the back and settled in to watch _It Happened One Night_ starring Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert.

"Have you seen this?" Edward asked.

"It's in black and white."

"That's not an answer, Bella."

"No. My household wasn't an old time romance kind of house. More like baseball and reality television."

"Yikes."

"Agreed."

They watched, and it didn't take long before Bella crossed her arms. She got that irritated look where she pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. It was kind of refreshing to have her glare directed somewhere else for once.

"What?" he asked when he got too curious about what she was thinking.

"I see why you like this movie."

"Do you? Why?"

"Because he's you. He's an arrogant asshole who thinks he knows everything. Do you hear this dialogue? He's going to ship her off to Daddy if she doesn't behave. She's over twenty-one."

He threw a few kernels of popcorn at her. "Watch the movie. It's supposed to be funny. You're not supposed to take this seriously."

"I'm just saying, I'm not going to like this guy just because he's handsome."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that."

She looked over at him, and smirked.

"It's Clark Gable. Everyone thinks Clark Gable is handsome," Edward said.

"Oh, well, if he's your type."

"He's everyone's type. If a guy says he wouldn't turn for Clark Gable, he's lying. He's the Robert Downy Jr. of his time."

"Aww. You have a crush," she teased, grinning at him over her strawberry shake.

"This is an iconic scene," Edward said when it came to the scene where the two main characters had to share a room. "Seeing Clark Gable bare-chested led to a decline in undershirt sales at the time."

"What?" She scoffed. "That's absurd." She reached for her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm Googling it, obviously."

"Just because we're alone in this car doesn't mean you can use your phone at the movies."

She was staring at him. It took him a moment to realize it was because he was touching her again. He's reached over to grab her wrist. It had brought them close. His eyes darted down to her lips.

"Watch the movie," her lips said.

"Yeah." His voice was rough to his own ears. He turned back to the screen, trying to ignore the fact the air in the car had turned to static electricity. It was unbelievably hard to keep his hands to himself.

What would she do if he pulled the stretch and put his arm around her move?

He was amusing himself, trying to figure out just how she would kick his ass when he was startled out of his reverie by Bella's cry of indignation. "He's insufferable."

"What did Clark do now?"

"Are you watching this? Listen to him. He thinks she doesn't dunk her donut right." She gestured at the huge screen. "Because there's a correct way to dunk a donut? Although, you know what the real question is?"

"Who the hell would ruin a good cup of coffee by dunking a donut in it?"

"Exactly." Her smile went wide, and he caught his breath. Jesus, she was beautiful.

Her smile fell a little into something not quite as exuberant. She studied him and took a deep breath. For a second, he thought she was going to lean in and kiss him.

She didn't, but when she turned back to the screen she scooted infinitesimally closer to him.

And when he stretched and let his arm fall over her back, she didn't push him away. She stared straight forward, but she didn't push him away.

Her skin was so soft.

And some minutes later, she shifted again and oh so tentatively rested her head on his shoulder. Edward had never been so ridiculously pleased about something in his life. His smile was blinding, and he was glad she couldn't really see it from the position she was in.

"See?" he murmured against her hair a few minutes later. "He's an equal opportunity know-it-all. He's berating her father's piggybacking skills now. It isn't just about talking down to the little woman."

"That doesn't make him any more attractive. Arrogant assholes aren't a turn on."

"Mmhmm."

"They aren't."

"Mmhmm."

She shook her head, but snuggled even closer under his arm. Then, during the movie's most famous scene—where Claudette Colbert succeeded where Clark Gable failed and got them a ride, Bella smacked his knee with her palm.

"See," she crowed. "She's got smarts all on her own. Capable of taking care of herself and him, if he'd just shut up and let her help. You know, like she's an equally capable person?"

He chuckled, looking down at her as she looked up at him. Her face was so close. Her lips were so close. "You know what we could do if you hate the movie…" he said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes gone dark with unmistakable excitement and want. She took a steadying breath, her eyes meeting his furtively. "Not yet," she whispered.

He licked his lips, frozen in her stare. He hummed an acknowledgement but didn't look away and didn't stop running his fingers just behind her ear.

As much as he wanted to kiss her, to press her down in this spacious backseat, watching her watch the movie was almost as much fun. In spite of herself, he could tell she was getting into the movie. She looked downright stricken toward the end, when it looked like everything was going to fall apart.

"I hear you, Clark. Love is awful," Bella said as Clark Gable's confession of love was dragged out of him at his lowest moment.

"Don't do it," she muttered when Claudette was about to marry the wrong man. "You know you don't want to do it."

And when Claudette fled her wedding, Bella made the tiniest yell of triumph that she smothered behind closed lips. Edward laughed. "You liked it," he accused.

"It was horrible," she argued, but she was smiling. "I had a terrible time."

"Uh huh." He really, really wanted to kiss her.

She took a shaky breath. "We…" She closed her eyes, pulling away from him slightly. "We have an early day tomorrow."

He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, determined to learn from his mistakes. He wasn't going to argue with her, tell her to just give in. Of course, he wanted her to. He knew she wanted to; it was written all over her face.

Instead, he straightened up. He gathered the trash and went to dump it. Then, he got back in the car and drove them back toward the hotel.

As he drove out of the theater, Bella reached out and put her hand over his on the shifter.

Edward beamed, more smugly satisfied than he could remember being in a long time. He flipped his hand over and twined their fingers together, enjoying the silence.

* * *

 **A/N: Good date?**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Good morning!**

* * *

Bella was in the middle of speaking to a pair of residents about a case—a baby with hydrocephalus who'd had nine surgeries in his eighteen months of life—when she felt a buzz at her hip. This, of course, was typical. There were any number of reasons any doctor was at the beck and call of a hundred different people who might have questions for them. So, Bella didn't miss a beat in her explanation as she pulled her phone out of her pocket to glance at it.

"As is not atypical for these types of patients, in his last surgery, the ETV was performed in conjunction with a CPC, a choroid plexus cauterization, and..."

The name on the text had distracted her.

Edward.

At the sight of his name, a thrill of excitement raced through her and a rush of manic glee tugged her lips upward. She swiped at the message without thinking, eager to know what it said.

"Good news, Dr. Swan-Black?" one of the residents asked.

"Oh." Bella snapped her head up before she could read the message, realizing only then that she'd stopped talking mid-sentence. "Um, yes. Good news. Good news about a patient." She could feel her cheeks heat. "As I was saying, a CPC was performed due to…"

Where she'd been speaking in clear, concise sentences before the text, now she began to stumble over her words. While she was used to thinking of many things at once while still holding a conversation or barking orders in the OR, Bella was somehow thrown by an intense curiosity. She was dying to know what Edward had texted her.

Stuttering a quick goodbye to the now bewildered residents, Bella beat a hasty retreat. She hurried down the hallway, and the moment she was out of sight, she ducked into the nearest darkened room, needing to be alone to regroup. Leaning against the wall, Bella grit her teeth, stubbornly ignoring the voice in her head urging her to look at the message.

Juvenile, she chastised herself. For fuck's sake, she'd gone all twitterpated. Even now giddy restlessness vibrated through her. Her skin felt electric, as though Edward were there in the room with her, leaning down to whisper his message in her ear.

Ridiculous, she thought. She was a busy doctor, not a moon-eyed teenager; she needed to act like it. There was every possibility a life could depend on her concentration at any moment.

But...that wasn't the case at this particular moment.

Giving in to her inner giggling teenager, Bella dug her phone out of her pocket again. She bit her bottom lip, ignoring the thrills that ran down her spine as she brought up his message.

Edward: You are exactly my brand of heroin.

Bella rolled her eyes, but she had to bite her lip harder to keep from grinning like a fool. She could guess where this was going. On a chemical level, this head-over-heels thing they had going on lately was on par with what happened to the brain when you did a hit of cocaine or heroin.

It was an apt description. What she was feeling was like an addiction—incessant, loud, and consuming, as though the priority centers of her brain had been reprogrammed to put Edward and all Edward-related activity right at the top. It was annoying, but it was also wonderful in a weird, unexpected way. Like there was the rest of the world, and then there was this bright bubble that existed only for them.

Bella: You're right. Being addicted to actual heroin might be worse than being in love with you.

She watched the bouncing dots at the bottom of the screen, way too eager as he typed his reply.

Edward: Perspective is everything. How's your day going, gorgeous?

Why the endearment made her breathless Bella couldn't even begin to understand. Or maybe it was his question. It had been such a long time since anyone cared how she was doing. Her heart panged. She'd missed that kind of intimacy.

Why him? Her heart twisted with the question she asked herself so many times. She let out a huff of frustration, wishing her head and her heart would get on the same page. Reject him—and all this distracting, annoying, amazing, wonderful head-over-heels nonsense—or give in. Enjoy herself.

Bella: Don't you ever get tired of having to convince me this is what I want?

For a painfully long minute, there was no movement on his end of the phone. Then, the dots began to bounce, and a second later his message came through.

Edward: Often, but that doesn't seem to stop me, my sweet addiction.

Bella chuckled, mostly laughing at herself. Yeah. The fact the man infuriated her as often as he impressed her hadn't stopped how she felt about him. Hell, the thought of him alone had interrupted what would have been an easy, exciting tryst with an internationally known movie star.

If this whole love thing could do her the favor of making sense, she'd be much less pissed off at it.

Considering his first question, Bella hesitated another moment before she tapped out a response.

Bella: It's been a really crappy day, actually. I had an eighteen-month-old patient with severe complications post-op, and my car wouldn't start. I didn't have time to deal with it, so I took an Uber here.

She pushed off the wall then, reminding herself that she had things to do, and lots of paperwork to go along with it.

Before she got far down the hall, her phone buzzed again.

Edward: I can give you a ride tonight, if you'd like.

She smirked, but before she could retort, he sent another text.

Edward: A ride HOME. Where I will drop you off without laying a hand on you or otherwise touching you in an intimate manner.

Edward: Unless you wanted me to touch you that way.

Edward: Or dinner. We could also do that.

Edward: Followed by the touching.

Edward: We can do do both, but we shouldn't do it at the same time. I'm pretty sure that would get us kicked out of the restaurant.

Edward: Then again, there's take-out.

Bella's shoulders shook in silent laughter, and she smiled fondly at the phone.

Bella: Are you done?

Edward: I can be.

He sent a wide smile emoji with his message, and she could almost see his playful grin. It was so strange how she knew him so well, knew his expressions.

Bella: Dinner would be nice, actually.

 _ **~0~**_

By the end of dinner, Bella's stressful day had all but melted away. Edward had let her vent; he'd commiserated, and then, he'd well and thoroughly distracted her with a nerd-tastic debate about the new Star Wars movies.

"Maybe I'm just attached to the now-defunct extended universe of the books because they were my escape in med school," he said. "But regardless, Ben is, and always will be, Luke's son to me. Han and Leia have no reason to name their son Ben. Obi-Wan wasn't their mentor. Han didn't even like him. And don't even get me started on the idea Han and Leia were separated."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Color me surprised. You can't fathom the concept that a no-nonsense leader like Leia might get sick of an arrogant, swaggering space-pirate, huh?"

After dinner, because she wasn't ready to go home yet, she suggested coffee.

And then, she ran out of excuses to be out with him.

It wasn't lost on Bella that when she got out of the car, her usual purposeful stride had dwindled down to a meander as she and Edward made their way to her door. They were stalling. _She_ was stalling, and the closer they got to her door, the faster her heartbeat stuttered.

She didn't want the night to end. This space they were in was nice. Warmth went through her veins as he twined their fingers together, holding her hand as they strolled. He made her laugh, telling her a story about his brother. She'd always liked to listen to him. Well, when he wasn't talking down to her. He was charismatic, smart, and engaging.

Yeah, she liked him. She hadn't expected that. Once, when they were in school, she liked him. Liked talking to him. Liked his banter. She'd looked forward to that class. Yeah, he could be annoying, but being his friend was nice.

But then he'd done that thing. That annoying as hell thing guys did where they pretended to want to be your friend when what they really wanted was to get in your pants. And not only had he violated that trust, but he'd insulted Jacob; her husband, her best friend. Jake had never been anything but kind and good to her.

She liked him—this man who'd looked down his nose at her sweet husband. She _really_ liked him. Liked spending time with him. Liked the feel of his hand in hers. Liked the little thrill that went down her spine when he ducked his head closer to her as he continued his story and she rummaged through her purse for her keys.

Bella closed her eyes briefly, caught between the giddy rush of smittenness—and she was fucking smitten, much to her annoyance—and the pang of guilt. She'd never wanted to be in love in the first place, but love wasn't a choice. To actually like this arrogant bastard had to be some kind of betrayal.

Love wasn't a choice. She'd always told herself she could walk away from it. But hadn't Jacob guessed where she'd end up?

" _You can't run away from him. He's here. You're here. There's nothing either one of us can do about it."_

And now here they were. Finally. They were alone, standing too close for friendship. Her hand was on the door, and he was leaning against the jamb, his head tilted down. There was an invitation on her lips, a desire in her gut to tilt her head up and kiss him.

All hells, she wanted to kiss him so badly. It was a heady feeling, a need, a desire so great she was only barely holding on to the willpower to keep herself from leaning in those last scant inches. Desire warred with that voice in her head that screamed why him, why him, why him?

And the quiet, irritatingly calm voice that answered her. Because he was brilliant and interesting. Because he spoke her language. Because he could be kind and compassionate.

Because she loved him.

She closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath and inhaling the scent of him. She heard the rustle of his clothes and almost jumped out of her skin when she felt his warm palm against her cheek.

He sighed, and his voice when he spoke was a quiet murmur. "It's an awful love story, isn't it?"

"Is it?" she asked, not opening her eyes.

"Awful." His fingers brushed up into her hair. His fingertips felt delicious running against her scalp. "I saw, and I was struck by how beautiful you were. Then, I heard you, and you were so smart, so sharp. But you were the wrong girl, and I was the wrong boy." He laughed—a mirthless chuckle. "Bella, what would our lives have been like if I'd been strong enough to walk away when I knew you could never be mine?"

She had wondered more than once what would have happened. If he'd never kissed her at that party, would she have been able to get him out her head?

That was why she still hesitated, despite her fervent desire to kiss him. His first kiss had changed her whole world, her whole self. Such an irrational, ridiculous thought, and yet it was inexplicably true. She'd never been the same since then.

If she kissed him now, she'd be his. To taste him again, after she let him woo her, would be to fall over that cliff she'd been fighting for so long now.

Why did her heart have to want him? So much. So fucking much she ached with it.

His thumb brushed the sweet spot just behind her ear, and she was done. So done fighting. She cupped her hand to the back of his head and brought him down to her. There was a burst of electricity that shot through her body when their lips connected, and Bella whimpered.

It was poetry to kiss him like this. She'd never known a kiss could be poignant, could captivate and resonate like a bell vibrating at the very center of everything she was. It was beautiful, this kiss. Painfully so. Her heart ached as his lips moved on hers.

He made a little noise at the back of his throat, close to a whimper. He felt it too—this ache, this need, this crazy, electric connection. So strong. As his arms wrapped around her, something like relief washed over her. Some tiny voice whispered in her ear. Yes. This. Him.

It was always and forever going to be him. That was why their lips worked like this. Like the sweetest thing she'd ever felt and the hottest. Flames licked along her insides, but it was the best burn. She gripped his jacket, suddenly desperate with the desire to consume him. She opened her mouth to him, taking his tongue inside her. She shivered, drowning in the taste of him.

She broke their kiss with a gasp, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. With a shuddering breath, she tilted her forehead against his.

 _Shit or get off the pot,_ she growled at herself internally, and then had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

It was such an ugly thing to think at one of the most romantic moments of her life. But how perfectly them.

This was not a beautiful love story.

She leaned in, kissing him again—a soft, tender thing. Not ugly, though. Frustrating, and maddening and oh, god she felt like she could fly.

On a whim, she slid her hands to his back and then slipped her fingers into his pockets, cupping his ass—damn, he made the prettiest little noises for her—but also palming his wallet. Once she had her hands on it, she yanked it out of his pocket and stepped away.

"What are you—" Edward started but cut off instantly as she pulled a foil wrapped condom out of his wallet. In an instant, his expression became closed and cautious.

"I fucking knew it," she muttered.

He sighed. "You knew what?"

She waved the condom in his face. "That sure of your powers of seduction, are you? This was always what you were after."

"No," he said firmly.

She shook her head, hating the doubting voice that whispered in her ear. "You've wanted me since we were barely more than kids." There wasn't a damn thing she had to be insecure about. If he had to resort to games to get what he wanted, that was his own malfunction and not her problem. "I'm no one's prize. You can keep right on waiting if that's all you want from me."

With that, she turned and pushed the door open. She hadn't gotten two steps before he reached out to stop her. "Bella, no," he said with emphasis, grabbing her arm to pull her back around to him.

Bella yanked her arm out of his grip. "Do you ever fucking learn, asshole? Don't you grab me."

He raised his hands up in a placating gesture. "Listen to me, okay?" He kept his hands raised where she could see them. "I'm not playing any game with you. That doesn't even make sense." His hands still up, he took a step forward and lowered his voice so it was deep and husky. "We both know damn well I could have had you if that was all I wanted."

She opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again just as quickly. He had a point. She'd been the one to jump him, not the other way around.

His eyes holding hers, he lowered his hands and took another step toward her. "We both know where this is going." He ducked his head and skimmed the tip of his nose along hers. "We both know what you want."

"You always think you know what I want," she growled, but it lacked the edge of true irritation. His rumbled words and his nearness wouldn't be ignored. Electricity rocketed through her veins, coiling at her core and pebbling her nipples.

"Tell me I'm wrong." He raised his head to meet her eyes. "But it doesn't matter, Bella. You're everything to me. I don't know how to explain it anymore than you do, but you're everything. If you wanted to wait, I'd wait forever."

Bella bit down hard on her lip. Her hands were resting on his chest, splayed wide so she could feel his heartbeat against her palm. She didn't even know when she'd done that. Her pulse was hectic, but his was too.

Under the chaotic push-pull of a tremendous tide, something inside Bella broke. She was his. As maddening and complicated as that was. But he was hers, and he damn well was going to know it.

Flexing her fingers into fists around his shirt, Bella hauled Edward inside. His gasp gave her tremendous satisfaction, and she didn't give him time to recover before she'd shoved him up against the closed door and kissed him.

As she kissed him, claiming his mouth with her lips and tongue, her hands slid down his body to the button of his pants. Unbuttoning him with a yank, she pulled his zipper down and put her hand to the hot bulge of him.

"Jesus, Bella," he groaned into her mouth as she rubbed him.

She nipped at his lips and dragged her teeth along his cheek up to his ear. "Are you going to tell me no?"

"No." He turned his head to catch her kiss again. "No, I'm not."

Gripping the front of his shirt in her hands again, she hauled him off the door and propelled him down the hallway. "What are you—" But before he could finish his question, she'd tumbled them both to the floor. She'd been aiming for the couch, but her movements were inelegant, caught as she was between a desire that went down to the depths of her soul, and the last dying moments of the simple thing she'd wanted—never to be in love, never to be in over her head like this, and especially never to be in love with this man in particular.

Of course she felt all the soft things too. She felt such a tremendous tenderness, a deep reverence for this awful, wonderful man that she could hardly breathe around it. But now wasn't the time to speak with that voice. There was fire inside her, and fire was nothing if not destructive. She let it consume her, consume them both.

Straddling him, she leaned down, her mouth on his again, kissing him as though he was the air she breathed. His hands and fingers sent delicious tingles through her as he slipped them beneath her shirt, dancing and pressing along her skin. She took his hot, hard length in her hand, stroking him before she slipped the condom on.

Time for exploration later. Time for worship later. They had time, but not now.

Now, having shimmied her pants down enough to get what she needed, Bella raised herself and guided him inside her. There, she paused as they both cried out. Edward's hands squeezed at her waist, hard enough that she felt his fingers dig into her skin, but that was good. She needed the steadiness.

It made her dizzy, the way this felt. She'd always been complete in and of herself. She believed that one and one made two. But this—being connected with him in this way—she had no context for. It was a feeling of wholeness she hadn't known existed.

Balancing herself with her hand cupping the definition of his chest, she began to move on him. Not slow. No, she gave neither of them time to catch their breath but rocked into him, taking him deeper, watching what she felt play out on his face. His breath was ragged, his mouth open like there were words on his lips that kept getting interrupted by a moan or a whimper.

No words. Just the building fire, consuming and burning away all the things she shouldn't have been able to reconcile. She was merciless in the way she rode him, punishing him for all the horrible things he'd said about Jake, for all the times he'd told her the things she wanted for her own life were wrong, that he knew better the things she should want. That she should want him.

She did, and she took him.

And he took her back, thrusting up to meet the rhythm of her hips. His hands cupped her ass, and he cried out as she scraped her fingernails down his chest. Fucking hell, he was hitting that perfect spot inside her, and she could feel the coil of an orgasm building that almost frightened her.

Oh, yeah. She was a freight train about to barrel off a cliff with this one. She could feel it coming; Disaster and deliverance and—

"Bella!" Edward screamed her name, his hands gripping the skin of her ass tight and hard. That jolt of pain brought with it a rush of pleasure that threatened to knock her to the ground. She held on to Edward's shoulders for dear life, a strangled cry rocking through her as her walls tightened around his pulsing cock.

The world went white, then black.

When she could breathe and see again, she found she was collapsed on Edward, curled into him, trembling against him. His breath was ragged near her ear, but his arms were wrapped around her, his hand pressed to her back in a way she found so sweet and comforting.

The world wasn't the same as it had been only minutes before, but that was okay. More than okay, there was this strange, warm sense of wellbeing that washed over her as she lay in his arms, basking in the aftermath of an earth shattering orgasm.

"Good god," he muttered under his breath.

She laughed and ducked her head against his neck, inhaling the musk of man tinged with aftershave. She shuddered. Hell, she liked that too—his smell, his touch, his taste. She liked the visceral experience of him. She was addicted.

She was in love.

When he squirmed a bit, she rolled off him to the side. Her bones still felt more like jelly, but she managed to get them to work well enough to pull her pants back up.

Beside her, Edward hissed, wincing as he reached to take care of the condom. Bella furrowed her brow. "What's wrong?"

He grinned, his hooded sleepy eyes finding hers. He reached up, stroking her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. "I think you gave me rug burn."

Bella sat up. "What? Let me see. Roll over."

If anything, his grin only got wider. "Oh, that's such a line." He curled a tendril of hair around his finger. "You just want to look at my ass."

She rolled her eyes. "Roll over," she said again, her voice more commanding.

"If you insist, Doctor." He flopped onto his belly.

Bella gasped. Sure enough, there were two bright patches of red, one on each of his butt cheeks. She hissed at the raw skin and the tiny patches of blister that were popping up. "Oh, hell. I'm sorry."

He snickered. "Worth it." He craned his head to look at her, his smile turning wicked. "Being manhandled by you was about ninety kinds of hot."

In spite of herself, Bella flushed with pleasure. She shook her head. "Get up. You need treatment. Lie down on the couch, and I'll go get what we need."

"I bet that's not as kinky as it sounds."

"Lie down."

"Yes, ma'am." He snickered, laying his head in his cradled arms as he lay facedown on the couch. "I should have known sex with you would include some kind of injury."

As she went to get the antiseptic and a couple of cold compresses from her freezer, Bella had to laugh too.

* * *

 **A/N: Soooooo.**

 **How you feeling out there?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: An anon was uncomfortable with my use of the word molestation in the previous chapter. To be quite honest, after I thought about it a moment, I was too. Words are important, and a traumatic crime is no joking or flirtatious matter.**

 **I've changed the text of the conversation to what follows. Thank you, anon, for bringing this to my attention. I'll do better in the future.**

 **Edward: A ride HOME. Where I will drop you off without laying a hand on you or otherwise touching you in an intimate manner.**

 **Edward: Unless you wanted me to touch you that way.**

 **Edward: Or dinner. We could also do that.**

 **Edward: Followed by the touching.**

 **Edward: We can do both, but we shouldn't do it at the same time. I'm pretty sure that would get us kicked out of the restaurant.**

* * *

Edward woke up alone, surrounded by a heady scent. It took him a minute to remember where he was, and why he felt so punch-drunk. He was lethargic and his muscles ached in places he hadn't even known existed. He let his eyes open slowly to the light of the morning.

For a few minutes, he allowed himself to bask. He'd gotten what he'd wanted. It had taken longer than anything else in his life ever had, but he had not been denied.

While not incorrect, the thought seemed wrong somehow. This wasn't something he should be gloating about, was it? Old habit argued on his behalf. He'd been right, hadn't he? They were good together, compatible on every level.

They were so, so good together.

She'd been glorious that first time. She'd been a vengeful angel, radiant in her destruction of everything they had been to each other. The reckoning she'd wrought was nothing short of divine. He was changed, then. Altered at his very core. She'd marked him as hers.

Her hands had been so gentle then when she'd worked to doctor him. And then playful when she'd given his lower ass cheeks a little pinch. They talked, and laughed, and kissed.

And then, she'd given him the most incredible gift. She'd taken him by the hand-so unexpectedly shy with that flush of red on her cheeks-and led him to her bedroom. There, she let him peel off her layers, exposing flesh he'd only dreamed of touching. She'd wrapped her arms around his neck, trusting him when he laid her down on her bed. She'd spread her legs for him, accepting him, enveloping him inside her. They'd made love with their eyes open, gaze locked on each other. Their lips, open as they panted, brushed, and they exchanged breaths with each gentle rock of his hips against hers.

He'd been right. This was worth everything.

Then why wasn't she in bed with him, still curled in his embrace?

Edward drummed his fingertips on the bedspread. He was sure he'd been right all along, and last night had only proven that. But just because the two of them together was a high unlike anything Edward had ever known didn't mean Bella had to want that high.

It had been too long for Bella to just have gone to the bathroom. Edward got up, retrieving his pants from where they'd been hastily abandoned the night before. He zipped up and wandered out of the room, wondering if Bella was going to pull a disappearing act the morning after. If anyone could disappear from their own house, it was her.

The sounds of sizzling and delicious smells drew his attention to the kitchen. He was baffled for a moment, wondering if she had a private chef. He had to clamp his mouth shut to stifle a groan at the sight that greeted him.

Bella stood at the stove, dressed in an oversized shirt that fell not far past her ass, her stunning legs on full display as she pushed up onto the balls of her feet to turn on the overhead fan. Edward leaned against the wall, watching her, charmed and entranced.

Maybe he was right about a lot of things, but this woman never failed to surprise him. "You can cook," he said by way of greeting.

Bella jumped a mile high at the sound of his voice. She dropped the pan with a clatter and whirled around to face him, looking strangely guilty. "I...Hi. Yeah."

He cocked his head, studying the hectic flush of her cheeks and the way her eyes didn't meet his. That threw off the warm, intimate atmosphere he'd woken up in. They weren't on the same page, then. But more than that, this wasn't a Bella he was familiar with. Bella was a lot of things but painfully uncertain and discombobulated weren't among them.

"Are you okay?" He reached for her, but she skittered a step backward.

"Yeah, I…" She huffed and shook her head, turning partially away from him to turn off the burners on the stove." I was making breakfast. For you. I know how to be a good girlfriend," she blurted. "I can do that. I can do the sweet things."

Edward blinked. There was a lot to process in there. "Bella-"

"No." She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at the counter instead of him. "You're good at the soft stuff." She scoffed. "Of course you are. You're good at everything, you damn asshole. And it's not that I don't want to do all the nice little things. I do. I have this urge to...please you or something, it's weird and it's stupid, but I want to do it. I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed. But I have things, you know? Thoughts or-"

"Bella."

She pressed her lips together and looked up at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. Tenderness washed through him, and he stepped forward careful, lest she bolt. When she didn't, he cupped her cheek, resting his other hand at her waist. He didn't hide his smile. "You're my girlfriend?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean to say that," she said, sounding breathless. Her arms were still crossed defensively over her chest. "It's just that you do things for the person you're interested in. Like you brought me my cactus." She reached out, touching the little cactus bouquet he'd bought her in Phoenix. "And you carried it on your lap during the flight. You've been really good to me, and I should return the favor."

Edward flinched, but he also knew her better than that. She was conflicted. No surprise there. And it wasn't as though they'd had a real conversation about their end game here or what each of them wanted.

Bella huffed and put her hands over her face. "This isn't coming out right," she muttered.

Stepping forward, he reached out, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and pulling her hands down. There was that uncertainty again. Part of him wanted to shout at her to let it go. He knew she could feel this _thing_ between them, and now she'd seen how great it could be.

Who wouldn't want to embrace what they'd found last night?

But, while it was easy for him to let that emotion exist in a vacuum, Bella's mind didn't work that way. More than that, all the negative things she'd thought about him for so many years were true. There was no misunderstanding. He'd said and done every one of the things she'd accused him of, with the exception of killing her husband via negligence.

She wasn't running. That was the important part.

And she _had_ used the world girlfriend.

Edward tugged her hands down, placing them on his waist. He slid one hand to the small of her back and pulled her closer. "You made me breakfast," he said in a faux smug, teasing voice.

Her lips quirked. "I was awake, and your stomach growls in your sleep."

"Does not."

"Does."

He let his hand stroke up and down her back. "I liked waking up here."

She looked down, raising a hand to his chest where her fingertips traced the lines of his body. "I liked waking up to you," she admitted quietly. She scoffed and shook her head, but there was a small smile on her lips. "It made me ridiculous."

"Because your first instinct was to feed me?"

"No." She tilted her head up, pressing a kiss to his chin. "Because it was suddenly this drastic, life and death decision about whether I should make blueberry, banana, or chocolate chip pancakes. My internal monologue was embarrassing."

"I see." He took another step forward, swallowing most of the rest of the space between them, so her back was pressed against the counter. "That's what happens when you watch me sleep, hmm?"

Her cheeks went pink, but she cupped her hand along the side of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. "You make my knees weak sometimes. It's really annoying."

Edward tilted his forehead against hers and kissed her. "Weak knees?" He kissed her again. "Oh, no. That could be a sign of something gone seriously wrong."

"Can it?" she asked, kissing him this time. "That would explain a lot. It must have something to do with what's wrong with my heart. That does sound serious."

"Very serious." He snickered and caught her lips again, cupping her bottom in both his palms through the thin layer of fabric. "But I don't want you to worry."

"No?"

"I'm a doctor, after all." His hands at her hips, he lifted her onto the counter in an easy movement, grinning at her huff of surprise. He tilted his head up, grinning wickedly at her. "I'm well qualified to do an examination."

Her face was flushed and her eyes dark. "I don't think you know what you're doing." She sucked in a breath as his fingers brushed along her inner thigh. "That's not my knee."

He pushed her legs apart as he inched the fabric of her shirt up, pleased to find she wasn't wearing anything beneath. He locked eyes with her. "The body is a machine. Everything is connected." Still holding her gaze, he dropped to his knees. "A good doctor is very thorough in his or her examination."

"Oh, hell," she muttered as his fingertips began exploring her outer folds. Already, she was out of breath, the fingers of one hand threaded through his hair.

"Don't worry. This won't hurt."

"You know, most doctors are lying when they say- Oh!"

Edward smirked though she couldn't have seen, his head buried where it was between her legs. He'd attacked her with his tongue at her clit and two fingers inside her at once. She'd made him scream, made him call her name the night before. He had other plans for her.

"Oh, Jesus." She'd hitched one leg up so her heel dug into his back. "Oh, god. Oh, my god." She was awfully devout when he worked her like that. It was good information to have.

Her hips rose to meet the speed of his lapping tongue and thrusting fingers. She had one hand thrown back, bracing herself against the cabinets. The other hand was tangled in his hair, tugging and shoving with increasing need.

When her back began to arch, when she flexed the walls of her pussy around his fingers, Edward stood. He took her lips with urgency, finding her tongue and sharing her taste. She arched again onto his fingers.

And then, he slowed his thrust. He curled two fingers inside her, rubbing the roof of her pussy as he pulled back from her lips. "Are you my girlfriend?" he asked, the words rumbling close to her skin.

"Wh-what?" Her hips moved urgently against his hand, but his movements had dwindled down to a sweet caress. "Edward." The word was a plea. "Please. Edward."

He shivered. Everything in him wanted to give her whatever she wanted, anything she wanted if she was going to beg him like that. But no. He was a man on a mission. He flexed his fingers inside her, stroking with a languid touch. "Tell me you're my girlfriend."

She groaned, releasing her grip on his hair so she could brace both hands on the counter. She met his eyes. "Admit I'm your girlfriend or I don't get to come. Is that the game we're playing here?"

He grinned and leaned in to steal a kiss. "I have very talented fingers that don't get tired easily." He stole another kiss, swallowing her moan as he he continued to work her slowly. "I'm a surgeon, you know."

Her eyes flashed. Her face was flushed and every word was breathless. "I'm a surgeon too, jackass. I don't have a problem finishing what you started all by myself."

Now that was an interesting thought. A fantasy to fulfil later. He stroked her harder, pumping his fingers into her, gratified when she gasped and threw her head back a little. He lowered his head, taking that as an invitation to suck at her neck just a little. "Tell me, Bella."

She groaned. "This is coercion."

"Coercion?" He curled his fingers once more and then stopped. "Hmm. We can't have that." He pulled out of her and moved to step away.

"No!" Her legs locked around him, pulling him back to her. "Damn you."

He teased his fingers along her slit before sliding into her again. Leaning in, he teased her lips with his. "Tell me," he said.

She tilted her head, catching his lips in a fuller kiss. "Ask me," she countered.

Oh, this woman drove him so crazy. He pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed, looking into her hooded eyes as he did. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

She took a shaky breath. "Yes," she whispered. And then, "Yes," as he stroked her hard and quick again. And, "Yes, yes, yes!" as he knelt again and took her clit between his lips, flicking his tongue against it.

When she finally came, she called his name.

And when she rested, trembling in his arms, she sighed, "I love you," against his neck.

* * *

 **A/N: Shorty chapter, I know, but hopefully a fun one. I find it highly likely that next chapter will be the last one.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Happy Friday (or almost Friday for me). Let us away.**

* * *

He knew her well. Too well.

The rumble of thunder woke her one night, and she sat up in his bed, watching out his huge bay windows as lightning flashed across the sky. She scooted to the edge of the bed, bringing her legs up and resting her head on her knees.

When he woke, he didn't speak at first. He went to her and touched her so gently it made her heart ache. She closed her eyes, listening to the rain and the wet sound of his kiss against her hairline.

"I know what an injustice it was that it was me," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She breathed in a shuddering breath. "That what was you?" she asked, though she knew the answer to that question.

"That it was me you had to come to when he got sick. That I was the one there when the life you actually wanted, his life, slipped out of my fingers." He rocked her. "That of all the people you could have fallen for, it had to be the one who told you the things you wanted weren't good enough." He pulled down the sleeve of her silky robe, kissing her bare shoulder. "Does it hurt too much?"

She laughed lightly, shaking her head and falling back against him with a sigh. She opened her eyes in time to see the sky light up again. "Sometimes, I think it doesn't hurt enough," she admitted.

He was quiet for another minute, just holding her. Then, he shifted, moving them both so they were facing each other with their legs tangled. He took her hands and brought them to his lips. "If there's part of you who thinks I didn't take my job seriously because I thought less of him—"

"Edward."

"No, let me say it. I want you to hear it. Even if I thought he was pond scum, and I didn't, I'd have worked my ass off to save him for you."

Bella stared down at the twisted blankets. Old habit had a biting retort. No, of course not. Edward was the type who'd have saved Jacob for the sole reason he wanted to beat him fair and square.

But that wasn't fair. Edward was a good doctor. Maybe a part of Bella would always believe that if she'd been the one in that operating room her husband, her best friend, would still be alive. But regardless, she also knew Edward had done his best.

"I mourned him," Edward said quietly.

Of course he had. Doctors didn't do what they did to watch people die.

"Not just for me, but because I never wanted to hurt you."

Bella's eyes stung. She scooted closer to him so her legs were behind his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands were firm and comforting as he stroked up and down her back. She rested her head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

Life never had been a neat, pretty thing. Bella was happy in Edward's arms. That Jacob had to die in order for her to have this happiness—and she never would have let herself have this if she could have had her simpler, happy life with Jake—would always have a bitter sting. She wouldn't have chosen to fall in love with anyone, but especially not with this man for so many reasons.

But she was in love with him, and for all his faults, he wasn't a bad person. Far from it.

Bella raised her head and took his face in her hands. She kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him.

~0~

As infuriating as it could be when she lost her train of thought or got distracted by a text when she should have been able to concentrate, Bella found there was a lot to be enjoyed about this whole being in love thing. She'd spent the flight to Philadelphia reading with a case history in one hand. Beside her, Edward had a novel in one hand. Between them, the fingers of their free hands mingled, playing, and Bella had spent the flight bathed in warmth and pleasant tingles.

"You're glowing," Benjamin said when they were, by chance, left alone for a few minutes.

Bella flushed. They'd texted, as they always did, between meetings. Bella had been straightforward about the fact their flirtation couldn't continue, and Benjamin hadn't argued. Though she hadn't specified why—and he hadn't asked—Benjamin wasn't an idiot.

"So, you and Dr. Cullen," he mused looking far too entertained.

Bella felt her cheeks go pink, her thoughts tinged with simultaneous pleasure and incredulity. "Dr. Me and Dr. Cullen," she muttered, still surprised the thought didn't cause her any more anxiety. She liked the idea of her and Edward Cullen much more than she would have expected.

Ducking her head, she glanced up at Benjamin. "Listen, I should have—"

He was already shaking his head. "No drama." He turned up his signature charming grin. "I'm not going to say I wouldn't have preferred we had our, ah...moment first."

She smirked. "Just a moment, huh?"

"Well…" He winked at her. "I suppose you'll never know."

Bella had to laugh, and she shook her head. "Can I admit something crazy to you?"

"Sure."

Despite his quick assurance, Bella hesitated. "I haven't talked about it to anyone."

"I'm a sucker for a good story." He put an innocent hand on her knee. "I enjoyed being your friend, Bella. I enjoy you, with or without the possibility of sex. That doesn't have to end."

How strange. She'd gone most of her life without many friends for one reason or another. Was she really about to engage in a serious girl-talk session with Benjamin Touma? Was this her life? Edward the Arrogant was her boyfriend and a superstar was her best friend?

Well. She supposed that was a ridiculous thing to complain about.

So, she said the words out loud, telling Benjamin her sordid history with Edward. She told him about how confusing it was sometimes, though she was letting go of that bit by bit. And of her worries.

"Being with someone in the same profession can get, ah, competitive," Benjamin said with a wry smile. "And, in your case, I'd imagine it'd be like your partner going out for the same role. The position on the team you're interested in?"

Bella nodded. "These past few weeks, learning how to be with someone who speaks my language has been interesting. I'm nervous about talking about my day, because I feel like he's going to argue about the choices I made. That he'd have made a different call. And he will, someday. I know he hasn't stopped being him, and he can't help but think he knows everything."

Benjamin laughed. "You're grinning. You know that, right?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "I'm annoying myself. It used to make me so mad."

"And it will again." Benjamin shrugged. "Such is life."

Bella looked up as Edward and Tyler returned, heading their way. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. She watched his eyes narrow slightly, but as his gaze met hers, he smiled. Her heart stuttered again.

"Such is life," she murmured.

~0~

As it turned out, Edward wasn't interested in going for the spot on the team Bella wanted. A little careful prodding revealed that while he absolutely did want to be the best neurosurgeon, he had surprisingly little ambition in the field.

His expression was bemused as he drove. "Let's just say, if we accidentally get pregnant, you don't have to worry about which of us is going to stay home with the baby."

Bella choked on air. "That's not...I don't...We…"

He laughed. "Boy, that was worth it just to see the look on your face." He chuckled. "I like my job, and I'm good at my job. It's fulfilling and invigorating." He stared out the windshield as they came to a stop in front of the Cullen house. "It's just that I sometimes wonder who I would have been if my father wasn't my father."

Bella was coming to understand a lot of his cockiness was a defense mechanism. He'd had to be brilliant to be noticed amongst a brilliant father, mother, brother, and sister. And, while his mother was successful in her own right, Carlisle Cullen was a hard man to ignore. Bella, the few times she'd been in the same room he was speaking, had been in awe, riveted. He was intimidating as hell.

And now, Bella had to impress him both as a doctor—he was still the most influential card in her deck—and as his son's girlfriend. She took a deep breath, rubbing her hands on her knees.

Edward reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Don't be nervous."

"Oh, sure. Easy for you to say. It might be years before you meet my parents."

"You realize that you're the one who arranged this little get together, right?"

She huffed. "Yeah, but it was during one of my fits of ridiculousness trying to be a good girlfriend. I know you want this, and so I did it even though you didn't think I was ready." She scowled. "You were right. You know how much I hate it when you're right. And I don't want you to be right, because I can handle anything, but you know, it was so much simpler before. That's another advantage of marrying your best friend. When we told Jake's dad it was like, 'Oh, Bella? Yeah, that's great.'"

Bella didn't need to look at Edward to know that he was smirking at her. She looked anyway and, sure enough, his eyes were dancing. She narrowed hers, and he pushed his smile into a thin line, pressing his lips together before he gave up and laughed. "I can't help it, Bella. This nervous side of you is just so sweet."

"Yeah, well. I didn't miss her," she muttered despite the fact her cheeks went pink.

"You do remember that you've met my parents, right?"

"Like that counts. I excel as a minority in my field. That's not the same thing as passing muster as a companion for their precious baby boy."

As it turned out, Bella shouldn't have been worried about Dr. Carlisle Cullen. For his part, Carlisle was polite and kind. He wasn't quite so intimidating like this. Still recovering from his second knee surgery, he walked with a cane, and it was clear he tired easily.

No, the clear bull—or maybe ferocious mother bear—of the family was Esme Cullen. Oh, she was the picture of politeness, welcoming Bella to their home and fixing her a drink as they all made small talk about Esme's charity and how well Edward had done running it in her place. They laughed at some of the mishaps from past years.

"Then, of course, every once in awhile, there would be an affair," Esme said in a lowered tone.

Bella felt her stomach twist. Edward laughed. "How scandalous."

"It could be. I had a homosexual gentleman once have an affair with a student." She waved a hand. "Of course, the student, while still in high school for unfortunate reasons, was nineteen, but still."

"And the scandal continues."

"But I must say, this is a first," Esme said.

"What's that?"

"Well, I realize they say there's a thin line between love and hate, but that only plays well in a soap opera." Her eyes met Bella's over the rim of her glass. "In real life, it just doesn't seem likely, does it?"

Bella swallowed so hard she coughed. Esme sat back in her seat, looking on placidly. Beside Bella, Edward sighed. "Mom—"

"I never hated Edward," Bella said, her voice still raspy.

"'If you're asking me to forgive and forget...absolutely not. I can't do that,'" Esme said. "Those were your words, I believe. Only two months ago? Three now?"

Carlisle cleared his throat. "Esme, maybe we should—"

"It's okay." She patted his hand. "Bella prefers blunt." She cocked her head. "Unless this is something else you told me that wasn't actually true."

Bella held her head up high, making a point to thread her fingers through Edward's as she spoke. "Both of those things are true, but so is the fact that I love Edward."

Esme arched an eyebrow. "So, you haven't forgiven him for this tremendous wrong you perceive."

"No, I haven't." Bella gripped Edward's hand tightly before he could pull away. She continued meeting Esme's gaze. "But, that's part of what makes me believe that what I feel for him and the love we share is a good thing."

Esme's eyebrows furrowed, but she didn't speak, so Bella went on. "Your son can be an asshole."

This time, it was Carlisle's turn to choke on his drink. Esme rubbed his back, her eyes narrowing. Edward laughed.

"He can be a pain in the ass," Bella went on. "But those are very human traits. If there's one thing I hated about the idea of love, it was that strange side-effect, that thing people do where the object of their affection is completely and utterly perfect, which we all know is just plain fiction.

"Edward has never been perfect to me." Bella turned her head, looking into Edward's eyes and smiling, shaking her head. "And I love him anyway. Truly and deeply." What happened to Jake—and that Edward's face, the face of a man who didn't think he was good enough, was probably the last thing he'd seen—would always ache. She couldn't forgive Edward for that. It wasn't her place to forgive him. But she did understand him. "The love is what consumes me. Not the anger or the injustice."

"All the soft, good stuff?" Edward asked, his lips turned up in a gentle smile.

"All the soft, good stuff," Bella agreed. She turned back to Esme. "I could try to stay mad, but, I have to admit, this is better."

Esme looked skeptical. She exchanged a glance with her husband, and when she looked back, her expression had softened. She nodded. "I think dinner is about ready."

 _ **~0~**_

Bella waited until they were in the car before she slumped over, her head almost down between her knees. She felt like she could take a deep breath for the first time in hours.

"I should have known because it was your mom who came after me the first time, but I really would have pegged your dad as the one I had to worry about," she muttered.

"Well, if you're talking about potential impact to your life, my dad was the one you should have been worried about," Edward said cheerfully.

Bella raised her head. "What?"

"He gives people the benefit of the doubt, but if you hadn't passed the test, he'd have quietly and quickly destroyed your career."

He sounded so chipper about it, but the more Bella stared, the more she realized the truth. Her eyes went wide. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"My parents play dirty when it comes to their kids."

Bella crossed her arms over her chest. "Well. No pressure then."

"None now. You passed." He glanced at her. "Don't worry, baby. I wouldn't have let them do you wrong, no matter what."

She glared at him. "Don't talk down to me, like I need your protection. I can handle my own business, and if your father tried something at work, I'd—"

He burst out laughing.

"You're evil, you know that?" Bella groused, realizing he'd been baiting her. She was just a little on edge still. Though Esme hadn't seemed quite as frosty when they left, she hadn't exactly been warm. Dinners at the Cullen house would be a wee bit awkward at first.

Edward shook his head, reaching over to hold her hand over the shifter. "I can't believe you called me an asshole to their face. I adore you, you know that?"

"That's a very strange reason to adore someone." She was beginning to relax, letting the warmth of him wash over her.

"Well, I'm nothing if not very strange." He glanced at her, and his tone took on a great tenderness. "Thank you, by the way. For tonight."

Bella expelled a deep breath, releasing her anxiety. "Yeah, well. It had to be done."

"Since it might be a while before I can let your parents grill me about my intentions, how about a compromise?"

"My parents know better than to grill you about your intentions because they trust me to make decisions for my own life. You think they're unfamiliar with pissed off Bella? But do continue."

"How about dinner with my best friend, Santiago, later this week, if we can get our schedules to work out?" He winked at her. "He's almost as good as you are at calling me an asshole."

"So this is a thing for you. Surrounding yourself with people who call you an asshole?"

"It's not always as pleasant as it sounds, but I wouldn't trade it." He pulled up to a stop light and so was able to reach across, cupping the back of her head and pulling her toward him. "It's definitely got its perks."

His nearness made her a bit dizzy, and she swayed closer to him, her eyes on his lips. "I hope this isn't a perk you share with Santiago," she murmured. "If going out to dinner means you're trying to set me up for a threesome, I'm going to kick your ass."

"What if kicking my ass is part of the threesome? I wouldn't be surprised. After all, you literally blistered my ass that first night." He kissed her then, silencing any retort she might have had, and the last of her tension faded away.

Maybe she had lied to Edward's mother, because right at that moment, if anyone had asked Bella, she'd have told them the sun rose and set specifically for him—he was just that perfect.

An angry honk made them both jump and the flew apart. Bella put a hand to her heated cheek, and they both giggled—tiny little titters—as they drove on. Their silence was warm and comfortable, and it was Bella who reached out to twine their fingers again over the shifter.

Theirs wasn't a beautiful love story, but that didn't mean they couldn't have a beautiful life together.

 **~The End~**

 **A/N: And so, I mark complete another story. So many thanks to Mina, Packy, MyOnlyHeroin, Betsy, and Eleanor for always being there for me. To the members of my group for indulging me when I need to converse.**

 **A special thanks to all those who have reviewed and encouraged me. You'll never know what your words mean. I'm very sorry that I don't respond to each one. Some of them have meant the difference between a bad day and a good one.**

 **Thank you.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hello, my doves. As I pondered what to get you guys for Christmas, I remembered that a lot of people felt there wasn't enough fluff at the end of Cerebral. So! Have some gratuitous fluff.**

 **This is, for the most part, unbetaed. Though Mina, Eleanor, and Packy did catch a few things.**

* * *

 _ **~Spring~**_

It took Edward a long time to figure out why the sight in front of him was so incredible. Since the moment he'd laid eyes on her, Bella had always struck him breathless. This was different. There was something strange but good about what was happening now.

After months of trying, he and Bella had finally arranged for four days off in a row. He'd brought her to one of his favorite places—his family's cabin. The setting couldn't be beat. Edward had awaken alone in the big master bedroom, but he'd found the love of his life on the private dock. She was sitting on the edge, her feet dangling over the water, her hair hanging long and lovely down her back, out of its severe bun. She wasn't doing anything, just sitting with her hands on her lap staring out at the loveliness and breathing.

She looked peaceful. That was the reason. Bella was so many things, but never peaceful.

Kicking off his slippers, Edward made his way down the dock with careful steps. He didn't want to disturb this pretty picture until the last possible moment.

But then…

He flopped down on the dock beside her in one swift movement. "Good morning, beloved."

She gasped and jumped. He fought a grin, instead putting on a mask of pure innocence. Her lip curled, her features twisted, and she smacked his chest. "What the hell, Edward. I could have died."

He peered over the edge at the water mere inches beneath their dangling feet. He looked back at her and arched an eyebrow. She looked sheepish. He put on a hard face. "I woke up alone."

Her face fell, and she ducked her head. "Oh, no. I didn't think about how that would look. I woke up, and I didn't want to bother you. I didn't mean—"

"Bella." Edward wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. "I was kidding."

She blew out a breath. "Bastard." She wrapped an arm around him and rested a head against his shoulder, relaxing. She took his free hand in hers. "Do you want breakfast? Hell. We didn't get anything last night. We were supposed to get groceries when we got into town. That was the plan, remember?"

He smirked and leaned in so his lips were near her ear. "I liked Plan B." He licked the shell of her ear, and she shuddered, tilting her head up to meet his kiss.

Yeah. Plan B had been infinitely preferable to getting groceries.

Bella broke their kiss with a sigh, resting her cheek against his. "So, a restaurant then?" She furrowed her brow. "The nearest place is miles away." Then, she brightened. "Why don't you take it easy? I'll go get us something to go."

He sighed, though for much different reasons than she did, he expected. He knew her well enough to understand how her mind worked. When she got spooked that she'd committed some relationship faux pas—like letting him wake up alone in their bed on their first vacation together—she searched for steps in a procedure. She'd missed waking up with him, the next step was breakfast. She wanted to get back on track.

"Shhhh." Edward tightened his hold on her. "I interrupted your quiet time."

"I wasn't doing anything."

"I know. It was weird to see you so still. I don't think I've ever seen you look like that—peaceful."

She paused a beat. "I used to be still. I like the peace."

He nuzzled the side of her hair. "Why are you never still in front of me?"

There was a long pause. She knew him well too, knew when she shouldn't brush him off. "Truth?" she asked, voice quiet.

"Preferably."

Another beat. "I'm afraid." She scoffed and then laughed at herself. "God. So many years of wishing you would go the hell away. Now, I'm terrified I'll do something wrong, and you will."

"Be careful what you wish for?" he teased, though he knew she wasn't kidding.

She turned her head to look at him, vulnerability written in her features. She raised a hand and cupped his cheek, searching his face. "You're essential to me, Edward Cullen. I don't know how the hell you did that, but it's done. But it's like being thrown into a job you know nothing about with no warning, no time to study. It took me twelve years to become a good surgeon. How long is it going to take me to figure this out, to be as comfortable as I am with a scalpel?"

He smiled and took her hands, bringing them down and winding their fingers together. "Well, aside from the whole referring to our beautiful love as a job..."

"I love my job."

"That's a point." He kissed the tip of her nose. "You do realize you destroyed my life, my plans as thoroughly as I destroyed yours, right? When I was a wee lad, and thought about the future, I always imagined the love of my life would be doting. Maybe not call me an asshole as much."

"Well, if you'd stop being an asshole…"

"That's exactly my point. If I wasn't an asshole, I wouldn't be me. And if you weren't a—" He smirked at her pointed look. "If you weren't a sugar-sweet, persistently positive and complimentary person, you wouldn't be you. And we wouldn't be meant for each other. If you can trust anything, you can trust that." He squeezed her hands, looking into her eyes. "Be still with me."

"The world isn't going to change in an instant?" she asked, not quite kidding.

"Nope. Just relax." He took a deep breath. "Breathe with me. In and out."

She breathed in through her nose and out again, the tension draining from her shoulders. The quiet engulfed them. Birds chirped. The breeze rustled the trees. The water lapped at the shore and the bottom of the dock.

Minutes passed, and then he couldn't help himself. He'd had a plan. This wasn't it, but that didn't seem to be stopping him.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" She was well and thoroughly spaced out. Of course. The woman never did things part way.

"Bella," he said again.

This time she turned her head to look at him. "Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"

She gaped, her eyes popped wide. Words stuck in her throat. He watched, his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth to keep from laughing. Then, she scowled and slugged him in the shoulder—not hard. "You're such a fucking bastard."

 _ **~0~**_

"Ten minutes. Ten minutes after you convinced me I could relax in this relationship, you want to change it."

To his credit, Edward had let two weeks go by before he reminded Bella he'd proposed to her. Not that she'd been able to forget. He was a smooth bastard. He'd waken her that morning with his tongue between her legs and afterward, he'd spooned against her back, stroking her hair just as she liked until she was really awake.

Only after they'd sat down to a breakfast of his specialty—homemade crepes with all the fixings—did he say, oh so casually, "Have you had time to consider the state of matrimony?"

He smiled at her serenely. "Why would I want to change our relationship? Since we don't have any particular need of the governmental benefits of marriage, it's a symbolic gesture." He winked at her, his grin boyish. "It's a symbol of the idea nothing has to change."

A rush of tenderness calmed her frazzled nerves. She reached out to put her hand over his. She was exasperated, but not angry at him. "You want me to buy that marriage changes nothing?"

"How we file our taxes. Other than that, what has to change? We're together every spare minute we have anyway. I'm committed to you, totally and completely now. A ceremony won't make me more serious about how I feel about you."

"Then what's the point?"

He pursed his lips, the smile there more wistful now. He shrugged. "I like the idea of being able to call you my wife. It sounds better to brag about my accomplished, brilliant, beautiful wife. Maybe it's a childish, boyhood notion, but I always thought I'd be married. Plus, it'd be fun to have three Dr. Cullens wandering around the surgical community."

Bella scoffed, fighting the ridiculous grin he always brought out in her. "What makes you think I'd take your name?"

He raised an eyebrow, and she grimaced. "Jacob pressured me to take his name. I was twenty-one, and I let it happen."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "He pressured you?"

"He wasn't a saint anymore than you or I are. Just because we weren't in love didn't mean he didn't want a traditional marriage. Fidelity and his name." She pressed her lips into thin line, eyeing Edward carefully. "That's one of the things that changed after we got married. He grew a possessive streak a mile wide."

Edward nodded carefully. He knew about Jacob's possessive streak only too well.

But, the man was dead, and it was easy to let his spike of anger go. He grinned. "Compromise then. Marry me, and I won't ask you to change your name."

Bella stared at him. Then, she smiled. She reached out and pressed the back of her knuckles to his cheek. "Edward," she said reverently. "No."

 _ **~Summer~**_

Edward didn't mind Bella's constant refusal. Despite the exasperated act she put on, he knew she didn't really mind him asking. She was a strange creature. She'd worried that she didn't know the rules of a relationship, would scare him away by taking one wrong step, and yet she never feared he would leave her if she didn't marry him.

Not that he wanted her to feel pressured in any way. A proposal shouldn't be an ultimatum. He was reasonably sure he'd get his yes eventually. This was just Bella's way. She never told him to stop, never discouraged him from asking with any degree of seriousness. She just wasn't ready to say yes yet.

"You know, the longer you wait, the more time I have to plan something obnoxious," he teased.

She nodded, not looking up from the medical journal she was reading. "Don't worry, my dear. I have no qualms about saying no to you in front of an audience. How big of an audience is totally up to you."

"What if I did it in front of my mother?"

At that Bella dropped the journal and stared at him. "You wouldn't."

He let her sweat a moment before he smiled. "Of course I wouldn't." Esme and Bella didn't have the easiest relationship. His mother didn't understand their dynamic. It was his own fault. He never should have told his parents that Bella hated him. It was also Bella's fault for pointing out to Esme that her precious baby boy could be a gigantic pain in the ass.

"Okay, compromise," he said.

She rolled her eyes, but looked at him expectantly.

"You don't have to marry me—"

"So generous of you."

"But, you know what I noticed? Your lease and my lease expire within about three months of each other."

She cocked her head. "You want to move in together?"

It amused him to no end that she sounded so shocked. "I asked you to marry me like forty-thousand times. Did you think I wanted us to live separately?"

"Forty thousand, huh?"

"That might be a slight exaggeration."

"No. I think that's the number to shoot for. I can't have my man be a liar. Forty-thousand no's it is."

He opened his mouth to argue but then just sighed. "I'm going to quit while I'm behind. But moving in?"

She reached up, taking his head between her hands and dragging him down to her for a kiss. "That one I can do."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really? A yes? Just like that?"

"You want to push it?"

"No. No. Nope." He straddled her on the couch, pushing her back and kissing her. "I'll take that yes."

 _ **~Fall~**_

They'd been together almost two years. All of the nurses who worked with Edward knew her, and so it was no surprise when they called. A surgery had gone wrong. A young man's life hung in the balance. Edward was on his feet for almost thirty-six hours.

She was waiting for him when he finally stumbled out of the surgery, his patient alive and looking to remain so for many years to come. Edward was still slurring orders about medication, muttering half to himself about how he just needed to close his eyes for twenty minutes before he could go check on the patient again. Bella told him that would be fine even as she pulled him gently away. When she finally got him to the parking garage he slumped, leaning heavily on her.

That was fine. Bella was strong. She guided him into the car and kept him as awake as she could on the drive home. She coaxed him out of the car, letting him lean on her again as they made their way to their bedroom.

"He'll be able to walk," he muttered for the at least the twentieth time.

"No one likes a braggart, Edward," she teased, sitting him down on the edge of the bed. She began to unbutton his shirt. "You did good, babe. So good. I'm so proud of you." She unbuttoned his pants.

He groaned. "I'm too tired for that."

She snorted. "Trying to get you into bed, stud."

"That's what I'm saying. I'm not going to be able to…" He made an upward gesture.

"Lay down, Edward." She pushed lightly on his chest, easing him backward.

"Lay down with me."

It was two o'clock in the afternoon. She lay down with him anyway and stroked his hair. "You really are brilliant," she whispered. "What you did for that man? That was beautiful. I really am proud of you."

His eyes were hooded and glassy, but he pressed the pad of his thumb to her chin, studying her. "I like this," he murmured, words slurred. "To make you proud. That's two accomplishments today. Saving my patient and impressing one of the world's leading neurosurgeons."

Bella scoffed and began to press tiny kisses to his hairline. "You've always impressed me. You know that. Remember? How I wanted to think the worst of you, but damn. Every time I had to hear you speak, see you do what you do, I was in awe." She took his hands and kissed each of his fingertips. "These hands do amazing things." She kissed him sweetly. "And you're an amazing man."

His eyes, as he stared back at her, glassed over with emotion. His breath caught. So did hers. It was one of those moments she'd never been able to explain. What she felt for him consumed her. It burned and it soothed.

She sighed and smirked to herself as he finally let his eyes close. She'd never wanted to make time for this, for love. She'd never wanted to want him. For so much of her life, she'd loved him against her will.

As she'd predicted, love was a distraction. Here she was, doing nothing in the middle of the day. Bella had wanted the freedom to be a workaholic. Love was a compromise. She was still a workaholic, but she could stand to take a day off here and there to be with her man.

A thrill went through her at the thought. This was her man.

A spark of an idea came to her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

Life was a crazy, crazy thing.

 _ **~0~**_

Edward woke slowly. He could tell he'd been asleep a long time. The taste on his tongue and his thoughts were thick. He was confused—trying to remember where he was and why he'd slept so long.

And what the hell was happening with his feet?

Edward jerked his foot, his eyes coming open. He was befuddled to find the room was dark. People usually woke up in the light, didn't they?

He jerked his foot again, and sat up. Bella grinned at him wickedly. "Wake up, you lazy bum. Lying around all damn day." She sat up on her knees at the foot of the bed, looking down on him. "What good are you to me, huh?"

"Not much." He traced his fingertips over the shape of hers where her hand rested at his hips. "What time is it?"

"A little after one in the morning."

His eyebrows arched. "Almost eleven hours?"

"You needed your beauty sleep. We have that benefit coming up in a few days, remember? I need you looking your best in your role as arm candy."

"Ah, I see." He twined their fingers together and tugged. Following his silent request, she lay down on her side, propped up on her arm. He pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Is that why you're not sleeping? You're already too beautiful for this world?"

Her cheeks flushed pink even though she rolled her eyes. "Smooth, Cullen, but you know your lines don't work on me."

He cupped a hand at the back of her head. "Liar." He brought her down for a kiss.

She hummed against his lips, lingering only for a few seconds before she pulled back with a pinched look on her face. "Your breath is rank." She patted his bare belly. "Go take a shower or at least brush your teeth. I'm going to make you something to eat."

"You and your obsession with feeding me."

Her smile gentled. "I have an excuse this time. I woke you up because your stomach was making monster noises. I know you haven't had much more than coffee and whatever crap they brought you in two days. You need food and hydration."

"Yes, doctor." Edward groaned as he sat upright. As he did, Bella reached over to the nightstand where there was a glass of water and two little pills waiting. Aspirin, he realized. Because she'd known he'd have a headache when he woke.

He took the water from her hand and pressed a quick, closed mouthed kiss to her lips. "You're good to me, Bella."

Ducking her head, she smiled one of her rare, shy smiles, her eyes light with adoration. "Yeah, well. I've been known to make a few questionable decisions in my time." She reached up and ruffled his hair. "Take a shower. You'll feel better."

She was right on that front. He washed the grime of way too many hours on his feet away, soothing his muscles with hot water. He brushed his teeth. He went downstairs to a find a feast of his favorite breakfast foods waiting for him. Only then did he realize he was so hungry, his stomach ached with hallowness.

After he'd devoured his weight in bacon and pancakes, he sat back, hands on his full belly. "Bella, you're the best."

"So no regrets about keeping me, huh?"

It struck Edward as an odd question. He quirked a bemused eyebrow at her. "I mean, every once in a while I'm pretty sure I'm going to wake up with a scalpel imbedded in my gut, but the risk is worth it in general."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

There was something strange about the look in her eyes and the tremble in her voice. Her skin had an odd hue to it, but before he could call her on it, she stood up. "Come on." She took his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Where are we going?" He ambled along with her like a child, still half asleep and trusting.

"Not too far."

She lead him into the living room, and there, he stopped short. "What the heck is happening here?"

Every inch of their coffee table was covered in cactuses. He stumbled forward and sat down in front of them, then looked to Bella, who was still standing. She smirked, though she still looked somewhat sallow. "This is what happens when you drift off forever. I got bored."

"And bought a forest of succulents?"

"You were asleep forever."

He scoffed and looked back to the table, still perplexed. He let his eyes roam from one to the other. Then, his breath caught.

At the very center of the display was a single cactus in a pot. It was a thin cactus, about the size of a finger. A ring finger.

And there was a ring on it. A thick men's ring, shiny with two small stones, one black, one white, set in it.

A rustle drew his attention, and he looked to the side, shocked for the second time in as many seconds to find Bella dropping to one knee beside him. She took his hand, took a deep breath, and asked. "Edward Cullen, will you marry me?"

He reeled, trying to figure out if this was really happening. A rush of giddy joy went through him, and he felt his lips turn up in a wide grin. A laugh caught in his throat.

Then, he took a deep breath, swallowed, and said, "No."

Her eyes popped wide. "No?"

At that, he did laugh. He tightened his grip on her before she could pull away, instead pulling her up and into his arms. She pushed against his chest, but he held her tight and peppered her face with kisses. "Hell no. How dare you?"

"What is this, some kind of payback?" Bella scowled at him, again attempting to scoot away.

He got his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap and holding her tightly enough that she couldn't get away. He kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm not that petty. But really, how dare you? Woman, of the two of us, I'm the helpless romantic. You're the one who isn't supposed to have a romantic bone in her body, yet here you are, trying to steal my moment."

"You're a horrible person, and I wouldn't marry you if my life depended on it."

She started to pull away again but he caught the back of her head, pulling her back to him. "Liar," he said, his voice low and rough before he claimed her mouth.

She growled against his lips, her hands on his shoulders as though she were about to push him away. She didn't. Instead, she attacked him with her kisses, fighting back with as much urgency as he was.

"I love you," he said breathlessly when their kiss broke. He laid her down on the couch and draped himself over her. He kissed her again, this one slow and serious. "You're the only woman I've ever loved and I will ever love for the rest of my life."

"I hate you." Despite her words, Bella threaded her fingers through his hair, bringing his face back down to hers.

"Liar." He kissed her again, his hands brushing down her body. A deep joy settled at the marrow of his bones.

She was ready to say yes to him.

 _ **~Winter~**_

Bella liked holding Edward's hand. That was a strange revelation to her—this need to be connected to him even when they were just walking along. As they walked, she brushed a thumb over his ring finger.

He'd worn her ring for the last three months since she'd proposed. Still, he insisted his no was firm. When she told him the ring was conditional on a yes, he'd smiled, kissed her, said no again, and slipped the ring on his finger anyway. Except for surgery, he had it on all the time.

A child barreled by, clearly oblivious to where he was going. It forced Bella to let go of Edward's hand so she could dodge. She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she looked after the kid's retreating form. "You see what I'm saying? Christmas shopping at the mall is dangerous. Let's go home, put on a movie, and scour Amazon."

Edward reached for her again, this time pulling her close enough that he could put an arm around her waist. "That's what you get for procrastinating. Three days before Christmas means nothing will arrive on time."

"Is procrastinating another term for back-to-back shifts at the hospital? I wanted my patients to get home for the holidays. Besides, joke's on you, sucker. I have Amazon Prime. If we order before five, it'll get here."

"This is more fun."

"You and I have very different definitions of fun," she said with a snort.

Edward just chuckled, pulling her forward.

When they got to the middle of the mall, Edward stopped at a kiosk. Bella was perplexed, wondering who the hell he was shopping for. The kiosk sold custom made decals for cars. She couldn't think of a single person on his list who might like something like that. Then again, she didn't know his siblings super well.

There was a crackle as the music from the mall-wide loud speakers cut off. The ever-present Christmas carols stopped in the middle of a holly, jolly refrain. The music started again almost instantly, but it wasn't a Christmas carol that played.

Bella's attention was caught again by a small commotion going on close by. They were, she realized, at the very heart of the mall, where it opened up in the widest space. Santa's Village had been set up there, but it was empty, currently, with a sign saying Santa would be back in the afternoon.

In front of the fenced-off village, a woman was dancing to the music that had come on. She was into it, her moves rhythmic and smooth. The throng of last-minute Christmas shoppers moved to give her space, some looking bemused, some annoyed.

Another woman came out of the crowd and fell into step beside the first woman, joining the dance. Then a man. Then another woman.

"Oh, wow." It was a flash mob, Bella realized as, one by one, others peeled themselves out of the crowd and joined in. The moves were way too choreographed for this to be spontaneous. All around her, people were stopping to watch. "Edward, look at this." Bella took Edward's hand, pulling him away from the kiosk so they could stand at the edge of the crowd.

They watched together for a few seconds. Then, to Bella's shock, Edward pulled his hand from hers and darted forward. She was shocked again as the dancers parted, moving so that Edward could join them at their very center.

It occurred to Bella then that the song playing over the speakers was 'Marry You' by Bruno Mars. Her hand flew to her mouth.

Of course, because Edward Cullen wasn't bad at anything he did, he moved with grace and skill as he danced in perfect time with the music. When the hell had he had time to practice this? He'd been working just as hard as she had.

Bella's heart beat fast, banging hard against her ribcage. Her stomach fluttered, filled with butterflies. The crowd around them had begun to hoot and holler, knowing full well there was only one reason _this_ song was playing in the middle of the Christmas season, accompanied by a flash mob. At another glance, she spotted Edward's friend Santiago, filming the whole damn thing.

Sure enough, as the lyrics came to an end, the dancers curtained off to the sides. Edward came forward, taking her hand. She was numb as he guided her to the center of the whooping crowd. His shoulders rose and fell, his breath hard, his cheeks red, but his smile wide as he dropped to one knee in front of her. There was, of course, a ring box in his hand.

Bella laughed. It was a bubbly sound, filled with the profound mix of happiness tinged with an adoring exasperation. This man. This impossible man.

"Will you marry me, Bella?"

The crowd hushed to a dull roar, waiting on tenterhooks for her answer.

She tittered, contemplating for only a second saying no again just to get him back for his no several months before.

But no. She—who'd never been one for epic displays of romance—was so completely charmed, she couldn't have formed the denial even if she'd tried. And, frankly, she didn't want to.

"Yes," she said.

The crowd went nuts. Edward stood, his grin blinding. She laughed again as he slid the ring on her finger. Then, she grabbed his face and kissed him in front of everyone, too lost in the magic inevitability of this love she had for this wonderful man to care if she was making a fool of herself.

"Yes," she whispered again near his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Once upon a time, she'd lamented his constant presence, the place he'd occupied in her heart and in her head when she didn't want him there. If left to her own devices, her own plans, she'd have had a good life.

All things considered, though, she couldn't be anything but happy that the fates had something different in store for her. Aggravating though he could be, Edward was perfect for her. A challenge, an enigma, and the greatest love of her life.

"We're going to live happily ever after," she said, her lips to his. She kissed him and then laughed, because this? She never could have predicted their story would end like this.

"It's not an end," Edward said, holding her close. "Baby, we're only just beginning."

* * *

 **A/N: You, my dear readers, bring me much happiness. I love your words. Your encouragement. I love you lots.**

 **Happy Holidays, and thank you for everything.**


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